


The Long Road

by ErothBlackDragon



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Action/Adventure, F/M, Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-09
Updated: 2014-05-04
Packaged: 2017-12-18 06:46:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 65,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/876829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ErothBlackDragon/pseuds/ErothBlackDragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My name is Almira Iris Woodson. I used to be a part time collage student and work on a cattle ranch back home in Michigan. But that all changed when an incorporeal being decided I didn't belong in the year 2012, and some how blasted me back to 1773. Now I'm stuck here, with no way back to my own time. Even worse is finding my self caught between two different wars, one of the American Revolution, and the other of the Assassins and Templars.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Earth. I could smell moist earth, feel it as I twitched my fingers. At least they still worked. I took another breath, adding lungs to the Things – That – Still – Work list, as I slowly cracked my eye's open. Sunlight filtered through the tree canopy where I lay, making it not so blindingly bright as I opened my eye's.  
Wait, sunlight?  
Pushing myself up, I looked around, seeing trees, bushes and grass' thrive in warm summer air. Only, it shouldn't be summer. Things should be dead and half frozen in the last dregs of winter, the sun should be blocked by the pouring March rain I had been riding in, making it almost too cold to be bearable. Another thing was, these were not my woods. This place I was in, not only was it the wrong season, but the woods, the trees, seemed _older_. And quieter.  
Granted, there were some birds fluttering around in the trees, singing to each other, along with a gentle wind rustling the leaves but that was it. I strained my ears for the sounds of nearby traffic. The ranch I worked at was right next to the highway, and only in the farthest corners of the property could you find silence as pure as this.  
I was dreaming... Or in some kind of coma, I had to be. The last thing I could remember was falling through something in the ground. I must of hit my head. I reached up, feeling for a lump, but only finding hair tangled with mud on my head. Actually I was covered in the stuff, from my oilskin duster to my favorite riding boots, it was all covered in a layer of black mud. Smelly, gooey, black mud. Groaning slightly at the state I was in I stood, taking a more prolonged look at my surroundings.  
My earlier assessment of this forest being old, seemed confirmed on second glance. The trees were big, tall and broad things, So unlike the trees to be found at my childhood home, or the woods on the ranch. Secondly, I seemed to be on some sort of plateau in the woods. Not too far from where I was laying there was a sharp drop off, with trees seeming to deify gravity by clinging to the side of it, only stopping near the bottom where a small river flowed.  
Where the _HELL_ was I?  
 _You're having a dream remember?_ I told my self as I turned from the drop off, looking up through the trees at the sky. _You're in a coma. Pretty soon the trees will start talking, or some naked guy will hop out and give you directions. _At that last thought I glanced back down, warily looking around, peaking around some of the bigger trees for God-knows-what. Finding nothing I sighed to my self, looking down at my prized boots, the likes of which were still covered in the black earth poo. Scraping a gob of it off my arm, I held it closer in examination. It seemed almost clay-like in substance, but for it's inky color, not to mention it _reeked___. It smelled like the old mold and mildew, that grew in the dank and damp parts of abandoned buildings and sewers. The likes of which remind you of eerie caves deep in the earth that –  
Wait I fell. I fell off my horse, then I fell through the ground. _Through the ground_. I remember the falling, then the lack of falling along with the lack of light and then... And then I was here.  
Oh good Lord above I was Alice in Wonderland...  
 _Its a dream, its a dream, its a dream, its a dream..._ I told my self as I dropped my goo filled hand and rising the other to my head as I slowly spun around, trying hard not to panic. _I fell off Carmel and hit my head, I'm just having a dream. It'll all end soon, I just got to wake up._ Flopping down on the ground I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose, but stopping abruptly when pain lanced through my face. When the sudden pain subsided, I carefully touched my nose again, trying to figure out if it was broken or not. Finally I determined that it was not, and instead folded my hands in my lap.  
This isn't a dream  
“Alright,” I mumbled quietly to my self “Time for a recap. Want to know why you're here, you gotta know where you were.” so I shut my eyes, taking a few deep breaths to try and calm my self as I went back in to memory of earlier today.

_We were missing a few cattle from the herd, four or five, the lot of which probably had formed there own little herd and broken off from the main group. William wanted them found and brought back to the barns, the freezing mid-march down pour was about to turn worse with threats of a severe storm coming this way. So I hopped on my cow pony, Carmel, and set out to find the lost buggers. The herd with the missing four had come from one of the farther pastures, a place where, yes, you could get away from the noise of the highway if you wanted to. IF that is, you could get over the creep factor._  
A good hunk of the land on that part of the property was covered in craggy rock, along with big birch trees and pines that made the place seem as if it had been ripped from the Lord of the Rings. The lost cattle were obviously not in the field portion of this part of the land, so to the forest I went. It was dark in the forest, even with the leaves gone, the pines were able to block a lot of the gloomy day's light. The rain and the gloom made things difficult to navigate, even more so with tracking. Once in a while I'd catch sight of a cow hoof print, only to loose it on the rocky parts of the forest.  
It was at some point while I was riding along one of the craggy ravines when I finally heard what I had been looking for; a grumpy sounding moo. It had echoed from one of the other ravines that lead off in to the forest again, so I turned Carmel down that path and let the gelding carefully pick his way over the slippery rocks. It was at a point where one side of the ravine had turned mostly in to dirt, but the other side was still towering rock when it happened. Thunder. At least that's the only thing I can describe it as. I hadn't seen a flash, I only heard the noise and to be fair to poor Carmel, it scared me shitless too.  
My pony bolted, causing him to slip on the wet stone and stumble a bit, which threw me right in to the craggy rocks face first. That's why my face hurt, and that's why I fell. Still having some senses left I had rolled out of the way of Carmel's stomping hooves, but I hadn't looked WHERE I was rolling. The craggy rock had a small space giving just enough room that I could roll under it and out of danger. Or so I had thought. The space had hidden some sort of sinkhole. Some of the mud had given away under me, and before I could stop my self I slid in to it, along with more mud and small streams of rain water. All I can remember of the fall was how sacred I was, how terrified that I would die down in whatever depths this place had.  
I couldn't see anything when I finally came to a stop. But I could hear things. I could hear more mud and water falling down after me, the sound of my own shuddering breath and then... Then there was the sound of something else... Something whispering.

That was the last thing I remember. After that I woke up, here, in the middle of no where. Scrunching up my nose I felt the pain there, it was an affirmation that no, this wasn't a dream. Saved me from pinching my self I suppose. Clearly something bizarre had happened, the most outlandish being teleportation. That's it, I've been teleported. _Great,_ I thought _next I'll be telling my self the aliens did it..._  
I stood up then, trying fruitlessly to brush off the seat of my duster (being impossible, since it was covered in the black goo.) just then, something shiny caught my eye. “Oh hey, you made it.” I said as I went over to the object. It was the decorative charm I wore on my Aussie hat, a family trinket I found once that apparently belonged to my great, great grandfather. It seemed to be some sort of arrow head, but made of metal not stone, it was also in more of a teardrop shape, with little added hooks on the back end for attaching it to the arrow shaft.  
Picking up my hat ( the likes of which was covered in the same black goo as I was,) I decided that sitting around here wasn't going to answer any questions, so I donned my hat and headed down to the river. While I had to be careful on the trek down, I wouldn't of called it hard. Never-the-less I was still drenched in sweat by the time I reached the bottom, but I suppose wearing winter clothing in the summer time will do that to you. Reaching the river I noticed it wasn't as deep as one might think, not at this spot anyway, coming up to a little above mid chest. I decided to take this opportunity to clean my self along with my cloths from the black ick that currently covered me.  
I started with my duster, beginning to splash the water on it before giving up and simply dunking the entire thing in to the river. I followed suite with my boots, pants, flannel shirt, tank top and finally my hat. I let each article dry on large, near by rocks as I waded in to finally clean my skin. The water was surprisingly clean, it even smelled clean. I was sorely tempted to take a drink, but my better judgment made sure I kept my mouth closed as I dunked my head in to the river. I scrubbed my face and undid my medium length red-brown hair from its braid to rid my self of the black ooze. I felt a bit silly wading in the river in nothing but my underwear, ( I didn't have complete confidence I was alone. Getting caught in one's underwear is slightly less embarrassing then getting caught with out it.) but it did feel good to finally get the blackness off as well as cool down a bit in the summer heat.  
I stretched out on a semi flat rock by my cloths to let my self sun dry, soaking in the warm sun rays that I didn't get to enjoy back at the ranch. I perhaps let an hour pass by before I went over to my cloths to see how their drying process was going, when I heard a voice echo from up steam. I immediately jumped in to my pants and tank top, pulling the top over my head just in time to witness a green dress float down the river. I paused in confusion for a moment, noticing a few more articles of clothing float along the river behind it.  
“Oh Connor, I'm so sorry! That damn stray is such a menace!”  
I heard an accented womans voice echo down the river, followed by splashing noises. Looking in the direction of the sounds, I saw a woman dressed in an old fashioned dress complete with a bonnet. She stood on the river bank, while a man dressed in a white-ish coat, waded out in to the river retrieving several articles of clothing from the water. I wasn't sure how or why so much of the womans cloths had made it in to the river, but what I did know was that man was not going to be able to save them all. So I jumped in, going after the dress that first caught my eye, along with rescuing a few shirts and two pairs of pants. That was all that seemed to have slipped out of the mans grasp, seeing as he had gone back to shore. He unloaded his catch in to a large basket the woman had, before they made their way over to me as I myself had just reached the opposite side of the river.  
“ I hope I didn't miss anything.”  
I said to them when they came with in talking distance, holding out the sopping cloths to the woman as she drew near.  
“Oh, thank you lassie!” the woman chirped as she held out the basket, giving me a relieved look. “I thought Terry's favorite trousers were gone for good!” I smiled at her as I put the dripping cloths in to the basket with the others. The two individuals were dressed a little strangely, the man more so then the woman. While the woman wore an old fashioned green dress, complete with an apron that had clearly seen plenty of uses, and a bonnet with pretty lacy trim, the man was an entirely different story.  
He wore an off-white coat that was accented with blue trim, along with moccasins and leather chaps that came clear up to his mid thighs. He was also _bristling_ with weapons. On his back was strapped a quiver of arrows along with a bow, a wicked looking tomahawk was slung on his hip, along with what looked like an old flint lock pistol and of all things a sword was strapped to his other hip. _Who carry’s a sword around now-a-days?_ I thought to my self as I noticed the man staring at me as well. To be frank, I had been staring at him for a little longer then necessary, he was what I would qualify as “a looker”. His skin tone was a deep coppery color, and his eye's were dark brown. His hair was glossy black with some of it pulled back in to a small pony tail, save for a single small braid decorated with a few beads. Tearing my eye's off the man I looked back over to the woman, extending my hand to her in greeting,  
“You're very much welcome ma'am, name's Almira by the way.” I nodded with a smile at her as she took my hand and gave it a light shake.  
“Almira, such a nice name! I'm Diana and this is Connor.” The woman (I think she was Irish, if I could go by her accent.) gestured to the man who stood beside her, who extended his own hand with a friendly nod of his head.  
“What brings you to Davenport?” He asked me after we shook hands. I sheepishly glanced back across the river to where the rest of my things laid out on the rocks, then to the hill I had climbed down to get there.  
“Well, I was just about to ask you about that,” I said as I looked back to them, “You see, I'm a bit lost.” I shrugged not really knowing how to tell them; _Yeah, I woke up on that hill just over there covered in this weird goo and last thing I remember, is it being winter time and now it's summer... none of you saw me in my underwear right? ___  
Yeah... that would go over well.  
The man – Connor – nodded in understanding as he responded to me, “You are in Massachusetts, in the Davenport homestead.” Ok, Massachusetts. At least I was still in the States, never heard of Davenport though. Alright, I suppose it's time to ask the kicker question;  
“What's today's date, if I might ask?” I inquired as I cocked my head to one side. Diana and Connor exchanged a slightly confused look before Connor answered me again.  
“It is September 12th, 1773.”

__...Wait, what?_ _


	2. Chapter 2

To my embarrassment, the shock of hearing the date had nearly made me pass out. _Nearly_. I really just became very light headed and dizzy, with a small side of panic. At first I was in denial, asking them repeatedly to tell me the date ( their answer was always the same, but with varying degrees of alarm.) before I finally decided that _no this wasn't a trick_ and collapsed on the ground to have a small panic attack. The woman, Diana, was fretting over my condition and instructed Connor to assist me to her home. After two failed attempts at getting me to stand and walk in a straight line, Connor finally gave up and simply carried me to the woman's house. (Dignity had abandoned me it seemed...)

There, I was set in a chair and _gently_ forced to drink some sort of concoction. Might of been tea, I wasn't sure, but it did have the odd achievement of being both tasty, and disgusting at the same time. I think the drink had the desired effect, for it both calmed me, and slapped me back in to focus. When I had finally come back to reality, I noticed that Connor had left, and only Diana remained. She was filling up another cup of Concoction for me when I stood up, trying to take in my surrounding for the second time that day.  
“Oh, no no, dearie! Sit, sit!” The Irish woman waved me back in to my seat and brought over another cup for me to drink. Not really remembering how many I had had before, I tried to wave it off,  
“ Oh come on dearie, this is the last cup. You'll feel right as rain after this.” I highly doubted this, but drank it anyway, taking four large gulps to get it down fast. Diana took a seat across from me, folding her hands in her lap as she watched me down the contents of the cup, before leaning forward a little, speaking in a calm soothing voice.  
“ Now Dearie, can ya tell me what this fuss is about? What put you in such distress?”

I fidgeted with the empty cup for a moment, wondering what to tell her. _Can't tell her the truth_ I thought, _Well... Not all of it._ That's it, I could give her an edited version. Looking at her I continued to roll the cup between my hands as I begun my story.  
“ I woke up this morning to a cold March rain on a farm no where near the Massachusetts territory. The last thing I remember was falling off my horse and in to the mud, only to wake up on the hill just over there.” I said with a wave of my hand in the general direction of said hill. Glancing back at her, the look on her face told me everything; I was a nut job.

I sighed, standing up and walking over to the small counter where Diana had poured my drink. Setting the cup down I leaned on it before turning back to the woman.  
“I know I sound crazy, maybe I am. But I swear to you, the last thing I can remember is falling in to the mud at my farm, and then waking up in these woods.” I closed my eye's and rubbed my temple, sighing as I did so, “I just... I can't...” I stuttered before going back to the chair, putting my head in my hands and letting my loose hair fall around my face. I sat there like that for a moment before I peeked through my fingers to stare at my feet. My bare feet. Frowning I brushed back my hair as I stood again.  
“I'm sorry,” I said glancing at her, then to my self “I left the rest of my cloths by the river.”

I must of looked a sight to them, with the way I was dressed. Nothing but a dark green tank top and blue jeans. _How scandalous_... I thought as I took a step towards the door,  
“No need dearie, Connor's gone ta fetch your things. He should be back soon.” Diana said as she stood, placing a hand on my arm, she gestured back to the chair I was just in, “Please, sit. From the sounds of it, you're having a rough time, let me get you some more tea.” I obliged, plopping my self back in the chair as she poured another cup for me. I didn't want more tea though, I wanted something stronger. Couple shots of whiskey would be nice. Actually just leave the bottle... 

Just as I begun sipping the drink, the door suddenly swung open, reveling a slightly frowning Connor who held nothing but my hat. I frowned at him, _where are the rest of my things?_ I wondered as he took a few steps towards me,  
“Are you well enough to walk?” He asked. I stood and nodded,  
“Yes, of course.” I paused for a second before wincing slightly “I'm sorry about my episode earlier, it's just that-” I stopped when he held up his hand, giving a small shake of his head.  
“You can explain later at the manor,” he half turned towards the door then, extending a hand towards it,  
“I took your thing's there. Please, Achilles is waiting for us.” I stood for a second staring at the man, before I just nodded at him. He hadn't shouted, or growled at me to get up and move, he had simply, calmly asked me to come. And yet... And yet I found my self _intimidated? Why does he intimidate me?_

I brushed it off, _I can think on it later_ , I thought as I thanked Diana for her hospitality and walked out the door, followed closely by Connor. He lead me down a well worn dirt path that seemed to be big enough for a good sized cart. At least it wasn't all gravel.  
“Why are we going to see... who did you say... Achilles? Why are we going to see Achilles?” I asked after a few minutes. Connor glanced at me, his brow furrowed in what seemed like confusion.  
“Did you not intend to seek him out when you arrived?” It was my turn to look confused, or just more so, as the case may be.  
“No, Connor. I didn't _intend_ on seeking anyone out, because I didn't even _intend_ to come here!” I nearly shouted at him, emphasizing my last words by spreading my arms wide. His frown deepened as he slowly came to a stop, giving me a wary look. I was suddenly aware of how armed he was, and how _unarmed_ I was. If this went side ways I was a goner. Lifting up my hat, Connor indicated the small trinket I kept there,  
“Is this not yours?”  
I looked from my hat to the man holding it, then back again. _What the hell does that have to do with anything?_  
“Of course that's mine. Been mine for a while now, and no, I can't tell you where to find one because it's a family hair loom and-” My voice had been rising till I was near full on yelling, when I finally noticed something that made me stop in my tracks; his belt buckle. It looked almost identical to my arrow head. Connor stared at me for a moment, before glancing down at the buckle and back at me. It was then that I remembered where belt buckles were located and hastily turned away from him, feeling heat rise to my cheeks and ears. We both stood there in silence for a moment, me staring at my toes, and him staring at me, before I finally spoke up. Clearing my throat I sheepishly turned back to him,  
“ ah, sorry. I... I'm just, not sure why or _how_ I got here.” I said as I nervously scratched the back of my head, before gesturing at my trinket and continuing. “ Or what any of this has to do with _that_.”

He remained silent, simply staring at me for a moment, before glancing down at my hat, then back as he slowly offered it it me.  
“ Perhaps we will both find answers with Achilles.” He said as I took my hat from him. I gave it a look before I gathered my hair up, twisting it on top of my head, then deftly slipping my hat over it. There, now whatever my come, I could at least meet it with out my hair in my face. We continued our walk in silence after that, allowing me time to take in my surroundings as well as assess the man beside me. As I watched him from the corner of my eye, I begun to understand what had intimidated me so. It was in the way he moved, how he looked at things, and how he reacted to others. Connor was a predator, and judging by his armament, he didn't just hunt the critters of the forest. 

I was glad when we finally reached the manor, my bare feet were beginning to feel raw from the short trek, making me almost limp. Once in side, Connor lead me to a large room where an elderly man sat, hunched over slightly in his chair, leaning on his cane. On a table next to the elder were my things; my duster, flannel shirt, a sock (where's the other one?) and on the floor next to them were my boots. One thing, however, was not mine, a gulf-ball sized crystal orb sat next to my duster. The crystal looked pure and was polished to a bright shine, it had lines etched in to it, precise and thought out, with some filled in with gold.  
“Achilles,” Connor said, interrupting my captivation of the orb, “This is she.” the old man looked up at me from his seat before slowly standing.  
“Ah, so this is the wandering girl, hm? The boy showed me you possessed our symbol, so I am curious as to why you're here.”  
Connor jumped in at this point, holding out a hand as if to stop any further questions. “She does not know what it stands for, she simply inherited it.” Achilles eye brows rose at this,  
“Inherited you say? Hm, and you were never told what it represented?” I shook my head, feeling my eyebrows draw together in a frown.  
“I wasn't aware it represented anything but my family's heritage.” It was true, the story I was always told was that my Great grandfather came to the States from Scotland, met one of the Native American girls and married her. The arrow head was always assumed to be a gift from her to him. Ta-da my family history.  
“So I would take it then, that you know nothing about the artifact?” he said, gesturing to the crystal that sat on my coat.  
“It fell from your coat when I retrieved it, I assumed it was what lead you here. I have seen one similar to before.” Connor said as he shifted slightly more towards Achilles, the two of them looking at me with questioning gazes. My frown deepened, causing the dull pain in my nose to recur as my emotions started slipping from confused to angry.  
“Look, you want to know why I'm here? Well let me tell you what I told Diana,” I said as I begun to walk over to one of the windows in the room.  
“When I woke up this morning it was to a mid March rain out on my farm. I go out to find some wayward cattle and end up taking a fall from my horse. I wake up only to find my self in the middle-of-no-where Massachusetts in sunny _mid September weather!_ ” I was shouting now as I pointed out the window, trying to emphasize my point.  
“So no,” I growled as I turned back to the duo, “I don't know what this symbol of yours means. Nor do I know- our own for that matter – any of these _artifacts_.” I hissed the last word as I ripped my hat from my head, pointing emphatically to the arrow head, “THIS is just a bauble, and that-” I said pointing now to the crystal, before stomping over to it and snatching it from the table to shake in their face. “This is just an over sized marble!” I said. Or meant to say, For as soon as my hand closed around the crystal, a painfully bright, blinding light exploded from it, engulfing the world for a moment before dimming. It took a few seconds before I could see my surroundings again, and what I saw, wasn't welcome in the slightest.

“Oh God dammit...”

The Manor was gone. The woods were gone. The world seemed to be gone as I stood in an empty, endless space softly lit by an unknown source.  
“There you are...”  
I spun around when I heard a deep unfamiliar masculine voice resound in the void. I saw no one however, and begun to turn in circles in search of the owner, only to see the vast Endless Expanse of Nothing greet me.  
“Hello?” I said, hearing my voice echo through the Nothing. I suppose I should have been terrified, or shocked or whatever to find my self in this place, but at the moment I was just mad to find my self in yet _another_ strange location by means of unknown transportation.  
“Almira Iris Woodson, I've been waiting for you.”  
suddenly forming right in front of me was the image of a man. He looked a little like the portrayals of Zeus, tall, clothed in robes and had a damn good beard. But really, all that concerned me at the moment was that he was see through and knew my name.  
“What?”  
The thing smiled at me. He smiled at me as if he were my father, kindly teaching me the ways of life. _If he try's to pat me on the head I swear I will find a way to smack that condescending smile off his face..._  
“I have been waiting for your arrival, for the beginning to begin.”  
“... What?”  
“ It is difficult to explain to one who has not interacted with us before, nor has knowledge of our existence.” he said as he begun to pace, a slow almost lazy gait. “Suffice to say, we came... from before.”  
“Before _what?_ ”  
I snarled at the thing as I followed him. In response he extended his hand and a dozen different images materialized around us, all of people who looked very much like him residing in some sort of futuristic society. In some of these images there was a clear depiction of slavery, the tall, robed individuals presided over a group of (usually) unclothed people, wielding an orb that looked similar to the “over sized marble” I had. I went to glance down at it, only to realize that not only was I not holding anything in my hands, my own cloths had up and left me as well. If that wasn't disturbing enough, I had glowing lines racing their way a across my body.  
“ What the _HELL?!_ ” I squeaked as I ignored the images to stare at my self in near horror. The man turned back to me then, causing me to try in vain to cover my self. “Where the hell are my cloths!” I shouted at him. His response was to simply smile,  
“This Nexus was built in haste, built for you and your path.”  
“Me?! _My_ path? And what the hell is a Nexus?” _and that really didn't answer my question about my cloths..._ He turned and begun walking again, gesturing for me to follow.  
“The Nexus is where we are child, a place where I can speak to you, about what is and what will be.” I was beginning to suspect that I would only receive cryptic words in response, from the Zeus like man before me. Before I could ask another question, however, Zeus spread his arms wide as he begun to speak.  
“Long ago, we sought to save the world from the inevitable.”  
at this a dozen images of the world on fire appeared, but it was a fire the _engulfed_ the world, seeming to destroy everything. The images changed then, showing the tall robed beings fighting their slaves, but a few of the slaves seemed... different.  
“war blinded us to what was coming, until it was to late. We could not save the world then.”  
Again the images of the earth on fire appeared, only now it showed cities crumbling and people dieing along with it.  
“We could, however, help the future prepare. So we devised a way, but in the end we were deceived. One of our own sought a way to rule instead of save, and rule she will.” He said as he stopped walking and all the images disappeared.  
“But only for a time. For you Almira, are the beginning to her end.” He said with obvious pride in his voice as he looked down at me. To be truthful, I still didn't understand anything, it just seemed all so... mythical to be true.  
“What do you mean 'the beginning to her end'? How can I be a beginning to something in the future when I'm not there to begin it?” this was getting confusing.  
“Because the beginning doesn't start where you came form, it starts with where you _are_.” … Things were making less sense as time went on... “Juno saw her path to rule, and became fixated on it. So much that she did not notice those who stood beside it. You Almira Woodson, are the unforeseen anomaly in her plan. You will be overlooked, and it is there that you will start the beginning.” He smiled at me again, but it wasn't a happy smile, it was apologetic.  
“I tell this to you, so you will understand why. Why you can not go back.”  
It took me a moment to puzzle that one out, and when I did dread begun to settle in my gut.  
“Wait what are you saying? What do you mean I can't go back? You mean go back home don't you, you're saying I can't go back home?”  
The smile that was on his face slowly fell as he nodded.

“But I have a family! I have sisters and parents and nieces and nephews, not to mention all of the other people I love! I _can't_ just leave them!” I might have been crying at this point. I wanted to cry.

“You have left Almira, and they will mourn your absence, but they will live on. Your presence here will ensure there freedom in the future. Does that not give you comfort?”

“No...” I heard my voice crack as it echoed through out the Nothing. “I don't see how I can help them be freed from _future_ domination by being in the past!” I croaked at him. 

“Because this is the beginning. You are the beginning. You will guide and be guided, and learn and teach many things, here, with them. Here, with the ones who bear the symbol.”

Around us the room exploded in to a thousand of the tear-dropped shaped symbols. They varied in style from one to another, but they were all definitely all the same. All like my trinket.

“Go child, begin the future, begin the light of hope.” He reached down and gently clasped my head in his hands. I wanted to bat them away, but as soon as he touched me the space erupted in to light again, but this time didn't fade right away. Instead the light kaleidoscoped in to broken bits of images and sound, as if they were memories seen through shards of glass.  
_I looked down my arrow shaft, lining it up to its target before letting it fly – looking down at my shaking hands I could see they were covered in blood – standing in the manor I was facing Connor and Achilles, both of whom were smiling at me – my hand was laced with another's, as I watched children run and play with each other – I saw two young men stand smiling at me, one held a babe, the other held the hand of a woman_

Time jumped I was no longer me,

_Struggle in war, a civil war. My friend died as I held his hand – a pretty nurse tended my wounds, smiling sweetly at me – I held a new born baby in my arms, she cried at the sight of the world_

Time kept jumping, I saw generations of lives flash before my eyes before it finally stopped at one memory.

_She had taken over, unknown and unwanted. For generations my family had fought for freedom, now was no different, I had knowledge others didn't. I had ability's she could not dominate. I will lead. I will be her end._

 

The Kaleidoscope of memory’s ended as the light took over again, fading slowly to revel the ceiling of a sun lit room. Slowly I sat up, seeing that yes, I was still in the manor, and that someone (most likely Connor) had moved me to a seat that resembled a couch. I looked around the room, just then noticing Achilles and Connor sitting by one of the windows, as if they were waiting for me to wake up.  
“I see they've decided to let you rejoin us.” Said Achilles as he slowly stood from his seat and made his way over to me.

I looked down then at the crystal in my hand, only to find white glittering dust leak out from between my fingers. The orb had disintegrated. I looked up at Achilles, who simply looked at the dust and sighed.  
“Seems it was meant just for you child.” I sat there a moment, staring at the remnants that had told me everything and nothing at the same time.  
“It wanted me to learn what the symbol means.” I finally said in a voice that sounded distant to even me. I looked up from the dust to Achilles, trying hard but failing to keep tears from falling,  
“I can't go home.”  
I clenched my eye's shut as more tears begun to blur my vision, hiding my face in my knees as I wrapped my arms around my self, one hand still holding the dust, the other, longing.


	3. Chapter 3

I spent the rest of that day curled up in a ball, hoping, wishing, that all I had seen and heard, was a dream. Deep down I knew it wasn't though, it had all been to real, to _actual_ to be fake. I was stuck in 1773 with no way back. Achilles seemed to understand my distress and instructed Connor to assist me to a room where I could recuperate. “She's in shock,” I heard him say, “She needs time to come to terms with what she has seen.” So Connor gently took my arm, leading me up the stairs to an unused room where I curled up on the bed and shut my eyes, trying to block out the world around me. I stayed there as the sun set, finally falling in to sleep as the room around me darkened. 

I awoke the next morning just before dawn, as old habit dictated, to an unfamiliar room and silence. The absence of my cramped computer table and Skyler's snoring reminding me of where I was. I probably would have kept laying there if my stomach hadn't growled, reminding me that I hadn't eaten anything since coming to this place. I doubted either of the men would be awake at this time, so I carefully snuck out of the room, making my way down the stairs to find the kitchen. Thankfully, the kitchen was right by the stair case, saving me from trying to scour the house in search for it. Nabbing two apples from a bowl, I crept out the back door to watch the sun rise. 

I hadn't noticed it before, when Connor lead me to the manor, but the house sat near a cliff face over looking a large body of water, that could have very well been the ocean. I stood there a moment, just staring at the sight of it all, at the beauty and the purity of it, before I walked over to the edge and sat down. I never really got to enjoy sunrises' back at the ranch, I was always to busy tending to things, to busy working to just stop and watch the world wake up. Despite the beauty of this place I wanted to go back home. I wanted to see Skyler, William, Cody, Tom and everyone else at the ranch again. I want my family, I wanted-

_NO._

A voice in my head shouted at me. _No, you can't go back remember? You're here, in 1773 and that's not going to change any time soon. So stop singing 'woe is me' to the world cuz it ain't listening, instead, pick up your sorry ass and do something HERE!_ I frowned slightly at my inner drill Sergeant, wondering where the hell he came from, but I suppose however my mind conjured him up, he was needed. I had just spent nearly the last twenty four hours wallowing in my own self pity. It needed to stop. I wasn't going to get anywhere by crying for what was, I needed to focus on what is. 

It was then that heard the sound of a door close. Twisting around form where I sat, I saw Connor standing just outside the door way, slowly looking around the area before spotting me. I waved once I knew he saw me, and he made his way over to where I sat.  
“Hello,” He said standing a respectful distance away from me. He wasn't dressed the same as he was the previous day, no off white coat and he wasn't bedecked in weapons. No, he wore a simple white buttoned shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and a pair of dark blue pants.  
“Hey,” I responded as he sat down a little more then an arms length away from me, hanging his feet off the cliff as I was.  
“What brings you out here?” He asked me once he was settled. Gesturing towards the horizon I responded,  
“The sunrise. I wake up with it nearly every morning, but I've never really stopped to appreciate it. It's beautiful.” I paused for a moment, looking around Davenport in the morning light, seeing the dew sparkle on the grass and the roof of the barn. Mist hovered around the water below, casting the ship that sat down there in to an eerie, ghostly light.  
“This place is beautiful.” I glanced over at Connor to see a slight smile tug at the corner of his mouth,  
“It is.”  
Silence stretched between us for a moment as I stared at the half eaten apple in my hands, before finally looking back over at him,  
“I need to apologize.” He frowned as he looked over at me,  
“Why?”  
I sighed, “ You, Diana and even Achilles have been nothing but kind to me, and how do I show my gratitude? By throwing a hissy fit over nearly everything people tell me.” I looked away from him and down to my hands, fiddling with the apple.  
“It's childish and rude, y’all have been just trying to help me.” I said with a shake of my head. Silence thickened the air for a few moments, before Connor finally spoke up.  
“Your distress is understandable. You did not come here of your own free will, you were taken.” I looked back over at him as he continued, “We can help you return home, if you wish.”  
I smiled ruefully at him,  
“As much as I would love that, you can't help me. I can't leave, Zeus made that very clear.”  
Connor gave me a look of slight confusion then,  
“Zeus?”  
I grimaced, _he's never going to believe me._ “uh, yeah. That's what uh... what I called the guy in the... in the orb.” I felt heat rise to my cheeks as I looked away from him. _Nice Miri, now you've proved you're a nutter._ But when I looked back at him, he didn't look at me as if I were crazy, he just seemed contemplative.  
“Were you in a place called the Nexus?” He finally asked. I blinked at him,  
“Yeah, he called it that if I remember right... how did-”  
“I was once there, a long time ago. That is where I was told to seek the symbol.” I quirked an eye brow at him then,  
“What is it about this symbol that makes it so special?” I asked him. Connor sat up a bit straighter, glancing sideways back towards the manor before answering me.  
“Perhaps that would be best answered in side, come.” He said as he stood up, before offering me a hand. I took it, letting him help me to my feet before he turned and lead the way back to the manor. 

Achilles was wake when we walked in, beckoning us in to the kitchen. He seemed a tad surprised when he saw me, but quickly recovered.  
“Good morning Connor, Almira. Breakfast is ready.” He said, gesturing to a few bowls of gruel sitting on the table.  
“Almira wishes to know about the symbol.” Connor stated as we came to take our seats. Achilles sighed as he looked over at me, “I remember what you told me yesterday child, that the artifact 'wanted you to learn the symbol' hm? Well then, I will tell you all about us and our age old struggle, after breakfast.” 

I chuckled and agreed, tucking in to the gruel even though I really didn't like the stuff, it was at least bearable though. Once we were finished eating I helped with the dishes, before the lot of us settled in to (what I called) the lounge room. It was there that I learned of the Assassins, of their dealings with “the ones who came before” and of the Templars, who sought to use the ancient's knowledge to conquer and control. The Templars and Assassins had apparently been fighting a war with each other through out the centuries, and from the sounds of it, the Assassins were barely holding together.

We sat in silence after Achilles finished his history lesson. I wasn't sure what to make of all of it. It all just seemed so fanciful. I also wasn't sure what I was supposed to do with this information once I had it. “Zeus” wanted me to learn what the symbol meant, but he failed to tell me what I was supposed to do after I did. Not being able to take the men's stares any longer I stood,  
“Thank you Achilles, that answers one of my questions at lest.” I said with a slight nod as I shuffled in place for a second.  
“If you wouldn't mind, I'd like to take a walk, clear my head.” Achilles nodded, looking as if he wanted to say something, but holding back. I left the room in search for my boots, hearing Connor and Achilles discuss something I didn't catch. Finding and donning my footwear, I headed out the door. The late summer sun beat down on me as I walked along the road, reminding me I had left my hat back at the manor. I didn't want to go back for it though, no I just wanted to continue my march to Only-God-Knows-Where.

I was trying to remember my conversation with “Zeus”, what he said, what he wanted from me, as I walked. _Guide and be guided,_ he had told me, _Teach and learn, here with them._ Of course, there was a bunch of gibberish about “Beginnings” too, I still wasn't sure how it all tied together. Grumpily, I turned off the road and in to the forest, going a ways before reaching a large tree that seemed to scream “CLIMB ME”. So I did, scaling the thing till I reached a comfortable height, (about mid way up) before I straddled a large branch and sat with my back against the trunk. 

_Okay,_ I thought, Lets start with what I do know. _One; the beginning -whatever it is- starts here, in 1773. Two; it also involves Connor and Achilles, more specificity I'm supposed to “learn” from them._ Alright that _is_ a start. _So, history flunker, what happens in 1773?_ Dammit I was awful with dates... lets see, what happens in America in 1773...

“Oh, shit... the Revolutionary War.” 

I wasn't sure of the exact date, but it did happen around this time. I wondered if that was what the “beginning” was, the beginning of a country. If that was the case, how did I fit in? The Revolutionary War was lead by men, fought by men, and won by men. Not men _and_ women. Sure, women helped out, but in the kitchen, in the fields and infirmary. I, however, was mediocre at best in the fields. My goals in the kitchen? one, don't burn it down, two, make food edible. Taste is optional. The field? DON'T KILL THE PLANTS. Ditto for the infirmary. _I'd make a horrible housewife._ I thought. Just as well I suppose, my luck with men was about the same as my luck in the kitchen, what I didn't accidentally destroy, came out dull and tasteless. I'd given up trying awhile back, _never could get past date number two with anyone..._

There had to be something I could do though, there was no way I was going to sit on the side lines and simply watch the war go by. I couldn't pass my self off as a boy and join the army, or militia or whatever they had, I was just to _shapely_ for it. Even if I succeed in fooling them, the jig would be up as soon as I got injured. There had to be some way for me to join the fight, to help the cause, even if I had to become some sort of weird vigilante to do it, running around and-

Wait, there was a way.

_Zeus you cleaver bastard, you KNEW I'd come to this conclusion didn't you?_ I mentally growled at the wind, narrowing my eyes slightly at the imaginary man, before nearly leaping out of the tree in haste. I rushed back through the forest to the road, in a hurry to return to the manor before I changed my mind. I was nearly out of breath when I finally reached the house, bursting through the front door with more vigor then called for.  
“ACHILLES! CONNOR!”  
I shouted as I started glancing in to rooms for the two, but the search was ended when Connor came out of the kitchen area, a look of concern on his face.  
“ What is wrong?”  
He asked as he stalked towards me, now dressed as he was the day before. By the time he reached me I could see Achilles rounding the corner from the kitchen as well.  
“I've made a decision.” I sated, glancing between the men. Achilles sighed as he came to a stop in front of me, giving me a knowing look from under his hat.  
“I suspected as much, out with it then...”

 

“I want to become an Assassin.”


	4. Chapter 4

I'm prone to rash decisions. 

Whats worse is I usually can't be reasoned out of them, not until its too late. Of course, the fact that nearly every hasty choice I've made, has resulted in a positive out come, didn't help in dissuading me ether. As Connor effortlessly flipped me over his shoulder and in to the dirt at his feet, I was beginning to think that joining the Assassins might _not_ be one of those “positive” times.

“Ughh, I think you're getting faster...” I groaned at him from the dirt. He looked down at me, hair slightly tousled from the first four times he pulled the same maneuver on me. 

“You are being to predictable.” He chided as he offered a hand to me, I took it, not even bothering to try and dust my self off as I stood. Connors' been trouncing me for the past six days (or maybe five and a half would be more accurate), ever since I asked (or near on demanded) to become an Assassin. Achilles had questioned my decision, rightfully so, and I spent the rest of that day trying to justify it to him. I think in the end though, that the questions were less for his benefit, and more for my own. Like, it was as if Achilles want _me_ to be sure, absolutely sure, that I wanted to become an Assassin.

Which I wasn't, not really. 

“Oh, how so?” I asked him as I tried to stretch the soreness from my back. The man was trying to teach me the choker hold, something non-lethal and silent. Or supposed to be, anyway.

“I can hear your approach, you are also placing a hand on my shoulder before you loop your arm around. You need to be quieter, and simplify your actions. here turn around-” Connor gave my shoulder a nudge as I turned to put my back to him. 

“You need to come up to your targets quietly, and quickly-” Faster then I could of blinked he snapped his arm around my neck in to a choker hold, his other hand clamping over my mouth.  
“-subdue them.” He wasn't actually choking me, but it had surprised me enough for me to grab hold of his arm, an automatic reaction if some one is trying to choke you. As he held me there in the crook of his arm, I realized the flaw in his teaching that was hindering me so. I fully understood what he wanted me to do, the only thing was, I wasn't physically able to do it. Connor offered no resistance as I pried his hand away from my mouth,

“ Wait, hang on, I think I know whats wrong.” He released his hold on me, letting me turn to face him, “Under normal circumstances your method would work, but we've both seemed to of overlooked something that has turned this in to an _abnormal_ circumstance.” Connor frowned quizzically at me, as I just stood there waiting for him to come to the realization him self. He didn't.  
“What do you mean? How is this abnormal?”

I sighed as I held a hand up horizontally to my head, “I'm several inches shorter Connor, I think what you're hearing is me _hopping_ , because if I don't-” I circled around Connor so I could demonstrate, reaching up and around his neck ( _without_ hopping and _without_ standing on my toes) I was only able to bring my forearm to his throat. I fruitlessly tried crawling my fingers across his collarbone to try and bring my elbow in to the proper position, with no luck.  
“I won't... be able... to... reach...” I groaned as I continued to try and stretch my arm up and around the significantly taller man. I heard an amused huff of air come from him as he pulled my arm away, turning around to face me with the smallest of smirks tugging at the corner of his mouth. _Well I'm glad someone's amused._ I thought as I looked at him. 

For the few days I had been here, I could tell that Connor wasn't exactly a cheerful man. I'm not saying he was unpleasant to be around, just that he wasn't as lighthearted as I was, which may or may not have been a point of annoyance to the two men I currently found my self living with. Achilles I could understand for being as reclusive and somber as he was, after all, his wife and son were buried just out side his door. Connor on the other hand, I wasn't sure what made him quite so stoic, or reserved. I wondered if he had a loved one's gravestone some where, or if it had something to do with the name he shared on one of the gravestones by the manor. Whatever the origins of his taciturn ways, it was nice to see him smile, even if it was the slightest sliver of one.

“Perhaps there are other ways you could go about incapacitating a target.” Connor said as the upward twitch of his mouth was chased away by concentration. We spent the next two hours going through maneuvers, trying to figure out which ones worked with my restrictions, what modifications could be done to make them work and so on. By the time Connor and I finished the lesson, the sun had risen to about mid day, giving off just enough late summer heat to drench us in our own sweat. The baggy, borrowed shirt I wore, clung to me uncomfortably as we walked back to the manor. And not for the first time that day, did I try to subtlety hitch my trousers back up from an uncomfortably low position on my hips. 

Since I was dropped here with out a chance to pack, Diana and Connor had been kind enough to loan me a couple outfits. I wore an old pare of Connors trousers, along with an old shirt of his, during our training sessions, while Diana's dress' where reserved for less... physically demanding activities. Like sitting... and standing...  
“You did well today, you have a natural fighters instinct.” Connor said, looking over at me approvingly as we started to walked back to the manor. For some reason I felt bashful under his stare and quickly looked away from him.

“Well, I suppose I had a bit of a head start on hand to hand before I came here.” I muttered at my boots.

“You were learning how to fight?” he asked. I turned back to look at him and gave a sheepish shrug.

“I wasn't trying to learn how to fight per se, more like trying to make sure my buddy's face didn't get smashed in.” He gave me a quizzical look, clearly waiting for an explanation. I gave another shrug,

“The boys at the ranch were a rowdy bunch, we'd usually get in to scraps with each other, but it was all friendly.” Connor looked skeptical at the prospect, but said nothing as I continued.

“The true trouble would happen when we'd go in to town for a drink. While the lot of us liked to have a good time, we usually tried to tone it down if we were in a public place. The only one who couldn't seem to do that, was my pal Skyler.” I chuckled a little as I continued,  
“He would get in to the worst sort of trouble,” I felt the grin that had been plastered on my face begin to wilt, “But I was always there to get him out again.” I felt a brief pang of homesickness and worry, _Skylers' a big boy,_ I told my self, _He'll be fine without you._ That thought hurt more then it helped, but I shook it off. Now was not the time for moping.

So I turned back to Connor and tried my best to keep smiling, “Anyway, that was my uh, 'introduction' to hand to hand. A smack to the face and a boot to the gut.” We reached the manor door then, where in side we found Achilles waiting for us in the hallway. Besides the lessons in fighting, Achilles was teaching me lessons for the brain,(philosophy, language, and few other things.) a lot of which I already knew (yay for modern schooling). He came to the conclusion in the fist few days that he could teach me little in these subjects, and instead focused on teaching me about the Assassins and Templars.  
“There you are,” the old man intoned, “I've decided to make a trip into town, and the two of you are coming with me.” He stated, gesturing for us to follow him further in to the house.  
“ the house needs a few minor things, the horses need a blacksmith, and you Almira,” Achilles turned slightly to point at me, “need your own cloths. You look like an animated pile of rags.” He grumbled as he continued to limp down the hall. I chuckled lightly at the jib, fully agreeing with it, as the old man continued  
“Since it's so late in the day, we will have to stay the night in Boston, so go and clean your selves up, I will assure everything else is ready. Although Connor,” Achilles said as Connor and I begun to turn away towards the stairs, “I want to see you down stairs for a moment.”  
“Of course.” Connor turned back to the old man and I continued to make my way to my room, taking the stairs two at a time. 

If there was one thing I missed more then home, it was daily showers. “Farm girl” I my have been, but dammit I'm a _clean_ one. Sure I could take baths, but I would have to not only take time to fill up a tub - _by hand_ \- but I would also have to empty that tub - _by hand_ \- once I was finished. Getting really clean around here took a lot of work and time. There was, at least, wash pans. Wash pans weren’t as nice as showers or baths, but they provided enough water to get most of the dirt off. So I cleaned off what I could and dressed in some clean cloths. I figured that Achilles might appreciate it if I didn't wear the ill fitting shirt and trousers, Just so I wouldn't look like some stray they found and took pity on. (although I suppose that wasn't far from the truth.) so I opted instead to wear one of Diana's borrowed dresses. 

I fumbled with the bodice for a moment, before I finally figured out how to lace the damn thing, and could move on to my hair. Which was a mess (but that's usual). I think it took me longer to comb through the birds nest on my head, then it had to wash and get dressed. By the time I was finally twisting it in to an organized knot at the back of my head, I heard a knock at the bed room door.  
“Almira?” Came Connor's muffled voice. “we are ready to go, is every thing all right?” crap...  
“Yes!” I shouted back as I begun to rush around the room, grabbing a clean shirt and trousers for sleeping, stuffing them all in to a small bag.  
“ I'm so sorry!” I said as I opened the door and scuttled out of my room, nearly slamming my skirt in the door in my haste. “I've _never_ taken this long to get ready for anything I-” I stopped mid sentence when I turned around to see Connor, looking at me with a scrutinizing gaze. I immediately begun to panic,

“What? What is it? Am I wearing some thing backwards? In side out? Is it the bodice? It's the bodice isn't it?” I babbled as I looked down to examine the thing in question, then back at him. He suddenly seemed flustered,

“No, no, it is not... It is not any thing like that it...” He sighed and winced slightly, “ I just did not expect to see you dressed as you are. You look... uh... nice.” Connor said with a nod. 

“Oh... Thank you.” I mumbled. An awkward silence stretched between us for a moment before Connor cleared his throat and gestured towards the stairs.

“We should go, Achilles is waiting for us.” I agreed, hurriedly going down the stairs and out the door, spotting Achilles and the carriage just in front of the manor.

“There you are child, are you ready to go?” the old man said from his perch in the drivers seat. Looking up at him I nodded,

“Yes, I'm sorry I took so long... I had trouble getting dressed.” I shrugged as he chuckled slightly before patting the side of the carriage.  
“Get in then, we best be off.”

I fumbled a little trying to get in to the carriage, the skirts of the dress making normal movements cumbersome, but after a moment I was finally able to collect my self and climb in. Connor hopped in with relative ease shortly after me, unknowingly showing off his unhindered state as he took the seat across form me.

The two of us were quiet most of the ride, just watching the world go by, listening to nothing but the squeaking of the wheels, and the steady _clip clop_ of the horses hooves. I snuck a few glances at Connor during the silence, sitting comfortably in the seat across from me, staring out the opposite window. I was curios about the man who lounged opposite of me, legs semi stretched out in front of him as he leaned against the carriage wall. I wondered what made him join the Assassins, where his family was, and what he was doing before he came to Achilles. I also wondered if he was as curios about me as I was of him. 

I hadn't told them much about me, only that I came from place far north west of Massachusetts, and was working on a small cattle ranch before the Powers-That-Apparently-Be decided to bring me here. I just left out the time travel bit. I hadn't really spoken of my family, and little of the ranch during the few days I had been here, but in that time, neither man had said a peep about anyone outside of there “brotherhood”. Well, I suppose I could try and see if I could get at least one of my questions answered.

“Connor, if I might ask, what made you want to join the Assassins?” I asked a little quietly. He turned and looked at me, blinking his dark brown eyes in surprise as he straightened in his seat. He was silent for a moment, making me think I might of asked something to personal, before he finally spoke,

“There was a crystal, much like yours, in my village that belonged to the Clan Mother. The Clan Mother was explaining to me why our village remained neutral, why we did not join with the other clans and fight. It was then that she gave me the crystal, and I spoke to a spirit in the nexus. She told me that if I stayed in the village, that men would come to drive my people off our land, but if I sought this symbol-” he said as he pointed to the tear drop shape on his bracer, “and learned from those who wielded it, then I could save my people.”

I sat there for a moment, just staring at him. I would have been angry to learn that someone was planing to run my family out of there homes, and of course I would have taken action against it, but Connor seemed to have a certain fire in his eyes when he spoke of a possible attack. I felt my brow furrow slightly as I cocked my head to the side,  
“Has anyone tried before?” I asked. Connor sighed as he leaned his elbows on his knees, clasping his hands together as he did so. He was quiet for a moment before he begun speaking again,  
“When I was five, men came to my village – Templars – and burned half of it to the ground because they could not find what they sought. My mother died in the fires that day.” I winced. I couldn't really imagine what it would be like to lose a parent that way, or anyone really. I understood why he would be so eager to keep it from happening again.  
“Oh Connor... I'm so sorry.” I didn't know what else to say to that, I wasn't sure there really was anything else I _could_ say to that. Connor sat across from me seemingly lost in thought, before he straightened up in his seat,

“Have you ever been to Boston?” He suddenly asked, catching me a bit off guard with the change of subject.  
“Uh, no, I haven't. I've actually never been this far east before.” It was the truth, when ever I traveled away from home it was almost always westward. I cocked my head at the man across from me, “Why do you ask?”  
“I think you will like it, it is a... captivating place. ” He said with a light smile on his face. I sort of doubted his statement, never really being one for cities, but I decided to humor him. Who knows, I just might actually like old Boston. 

 

Okay I liked Boston. I hadn't even traveled beyond the blacksmiths shop and I already found the city charming. While Achilles and Connor sorted out boarding and shoeing for the horses, storage for the carriage, and rooms at the Inn, I was left to wander. As I stood out side the blacksmiths shop, I watched the people scurry about there business, floating in and out of shops and conversing in small groups on the sides of the cobble stone road. I had to keep reminding my self that this was in fact 1773, and not some over-the-top reenactment of the time period. 

“Well?” came Connor's voice from behind me. I spun around to give him a slight glare for sneaking up on me, even though I should have been used to it by now. The man had a talent for being able to move silently, a necessity I suppose if your occupation is as an Assassin.  
“Hmm?” I hummed inquisitively as he moved to stand beside me. Connor had flipped up the hood on his robes, obscuring half his face as he nodded to the city before him.  
“Boston, what do you think of it?”  
“Oh,” I looked from him back to the scene before me. “Fascinating. It's all so very... different.”  
“Different? How so?”  
“it's ah, bigger, then what I'm used to.” I said with a nod, which – again - was the truth, I came from a small town, the likes of which only had one stop light. “also there's a lot more people, was never this crowded back at my home town.” Connor nodded sightly at my words,  
“ I thought this city was incredible the first time I arrived,” he said, watching the city go about it's business for a moment before continuing, “ I suppose it still is, in its own way, but much of the charm it once held has diminished.” I cocked an eye brow at his statement, turning my head to face him.  
“What happened to change your mind?”  
Connor glanced at me before looking back to the city, “I was accused of murder.”  
I blinked, feeling my other eye brow shoot up in surprise as I looked at the man next to me, “Murder? Did you kill someone?”  
Connor slowly looked back to me with an expression of incredulousness on his face. Okay, yeah, I suppose that was a dumb thing to ask (again, _Assassin_ ). He stared at me for a second before he decided to answer;  
“Yes, I did. I was trying to prevent the Templars from carrying out one of their schemes,” He looked away from me and sighed, “But I was unsuccessful.” He went silent for a moment, but before I could inquire further he turned towards me, gesturing to the road as he did so.  
“Achilles has requested that I escort you to the tailors, come.” Connor said as he stepped out on to the road, glancing back once to make sure I was following.  
“What happened? ...If I might ask?” I said as I trotted up next to him, doing my utmost to keep up with his long, free strides. Damn skirts.  
“About three years ago, there was a riot at the Custom House.” He began, glancing at me for a moment, before slowing down to a pace that was less of a struggle for me. “ the colonist were angry, taunting the British soldiers to fire at them if they dared, but to the soldiers credit, they did not. Not until the Templars intervened.” Connor bit out the last sentence as we turned down another street, some what smaller then the one we were just on, but no less busy. I quirked a brow at him, but it went unnoticed as he continued,  
“Achilles and I spotted a known Templar speaking to an accomplice of his. The Templar sent the man away to do who-knows-what, so Achilles instructed me to follow him. I trailed the man to a near by rooftop, where he prepared to fire in to the crowd, or the British soldiers.” Connor said with a shrug, “Either way he had to be stopped. Unfortunately he was not the only one trying to escalate things. Another Templar, to far away from me to stop him, fired his pistol.” He turned his hood to look at me, “And the British soldiers were soon to follow, taking the shot as a signal to fire in to the crowd. They spotted me on the rooftop then, believing me to be the catalyst to the event, and soon the entire city guard was trying to hunt me down.”

I quirked an eye brow at him, “Clearly they didn't get you. How did you escape?” I asked, cocking my head to one side.  
“An acquaintance of Achilles showed me how to dissuade the guards.” He said as he slowly came to a stop, pulling out a small leather sack that he then gave to me. The bag was heavier then it looked, jingling slightly as he set it in my hands, _must be coins._  
“There are things I must attend to,” Connor said before gesturing to the shop we stopped in front of. I hadn't noticed before, but we had apparently arrived at the tailors. “the funds should be sufficient for you to get a few pairs of cloths, when you are finished here you can meet Achilles back at the Inn. Do you remember the way?” 

I looked back in the direction we came from, truthfully not really recalling much of the trek here. I was to engrossed in Connors tail to pay much attention to my surroundings. Looking back to him I nodded anyway,  
“I will find my way.” I said, confident in my sense of direction to lead me back. He stared at me for a moment, before he simply dipped his head in acknowledgment,  
“Then I will meet you there.” He said as he turned away from me, quickly weaving through the crowd and across the street to disappear down an ally way.  
“Oookay...” I muttered, slightly perplexed at Connors abrupt departure, but shrugged it off as I turned and made my way to the shops entrance. I found my self pausing though, hand hovering over the door knob to the shop, feeling slightly scared about entering the establishment. It was silly really, I shouldn't of been intimidated at the thought of taking a simple shopping trip, but I was. Actually, that might have been it, this really wasn't a normal shopping trip, not for me anyway. Things were different here, strange, and foreign. I couldn't just walk in here, pick out a few pairs of cloths and be on my marry way, it didn't work like that. In fact I wasn't really sure how it worked. _You know how you can fix that?_ Came a rather sassy voice in my head, _you can grow a pair and find out for your self..._

I sighed. The Voices never said anything kind.

However, it was right, I did need to stop being such a scared little bunny about this place. So I straightened my back and walked in to the shop. The bell over the door announced my entrance, causing the shopkeeper to look up from his work. He smiled a well practiced, falsely friendly, smile as he came around the counter.

“Welcome miss! Is there anything I can assist you with today?” the tall, thin, tailor chirped as he walked up to me.  
“Yes actually,” I said as I glanced around the tinny shop. There were a few busts in here, some adorned with half made shirts and dresses, while others looked completely finished. A couple bolts of fabric were laid out on a table, next to an old fashioned sowing machine that looked shiny and new. I looked back to the beanstalk of a man, who stood gazing down his beak like nose at me,  
“I need a few pairs of shirts and pants.” the false smile on the mans face faltered a bit,  
“Pants, miss?” He said to me, most likely braking the blinks-per-second record. I frowned at him for a moment, wondering what had flustered him so, till I remembered.  
“ OH! Trousers! I meant trousers!” I nearly shouted in my haste, “Sorry its uh... Its been an... interesting day.” I added with a shrug, trying to cover up my slip up. The stork like shopkeeper seemed to buy my simple story, nodding understandingly and gesturing for me to come further in to the shop.

“Of course miss, of course. Now the cloths, they for a husband? Brother? Father? And would you happen to know there measurements? I have a few pre-made shirts and trousers here.” the man said, indicating neatly folded shirts, trousers and other garments on shelves pushed up against the far wall. 

“Um, no, the cloths are actually for me.” I said to him. He started blinking again.

“For you, miss? That doesn't seem, uh” he stammered before I held up a hand. It appeared I would have to concoct a story to pacify the man.

“Yes, for me. My... uncle... is short on workers at his farm, so he has put me to work to help 'earn my keep'” I said trying to sound peeved at the idea. “And I've tried working in my dresses, but I've torn two already and just yesterday I tripped over the horse's trough and landed face first in to a pile of manure, and to top it off,-” I added, probably laying it on a little thick, but judging by his facial expression, he was buying my fake tale of woe. “-My skirts had completely flipped over my head! I've been the laughing stock of the house ever since! I will not risk a repeat offense, so shirts and trousers it is, at least until I can convince my uncle that I am not suited for such tasks.” 

The stork of a man gave me a knowing nod before leading me off to take my measurements, saying that it would only take a few minor adjustments to fit the cloths to me. The process didn't take long, and I was soon confronted by another avenue of knowledge that was different in this time period.  
Currency.  
The tailor (who's name turned out to be Darcy) had asked for a down payment on the cloths, and I -not knowing the worth of the different sized and minted coins in the bag- simply emptied half the bag in my hand and held it out to him. I again, cooked up an on-the-spot excuse, this time for why I didn't know the value of the coins, and Darcy again, bought in to my fib. The man took two of the coins from my out stretched hand, informing me that the cloths should be ready by mid day tomorrow, before wishing me a good afternoon as I exited the shop.

_That wasn't so bad now, was it?_ The sassy voice was back, taunting me as I turned in the direction Connor and I originally came from. Again, it was right, the ordeal wasn't as bad as I had originally thought. I really needed stop dreading this whole thing so much, if I just relaxed a bit I would probably have an easier time blending in. 

By this time, the streets were beginning to thin out in the late afternoon-early evening sun, people finishing up there shopping and what not before they went home for the day. It should have been my clue to hurry to the Inn, but no, I had to just mosey on down the road, taking in the sights.

I had paused in my saunter back to the Inn, staring at the sight of a hog walking down the street, when out of no where I was tackled to the ground by a foul-smelling pile of rags. Instinctively I had thrust my hands out to brake my fall, letting go of the coin pouch I had been clutching in them, and I that's exactly what the rag pile wanted. A dirt covered hand snatched the bag off the ground before I had even completely finished falling, scurrying off in the direction of an ally way across the street.

“COME BACK HERE!!” I screeched, squabbling to my feet and tearing after the stinking, _thieving_ , pile of _filth_. Heads turned, and passers-by jumped out of the way of my quarry and I, no one bothering to stop the cut purse or even attempt to slow him down. The thief was quick, and had the advantage of knowing the city, but I had the stubbornness of a mule, and I was _NOT_ letting him get away with coins. So I chased him, skidding around corners and darting down various ally ways, till the sucker ran right in to a dead end. 

He faced me then, breathing heavily from the chase he gave, small beads of sweat streaking down his face accenting how dirty it was. I would have felt sorry for the boy (for that was what he was, a boy. He could be no older then sixteen.) it was obvious that he was homeless, most likely orphaned as well, and in desperate need of help. I would have let him have a few coins if he had given up then, so he could at least maybe get some food, but the _look_ he gave me.

The boy was grinning, like a cat staring down a trapped mouse, displaying plaque covered, crooked teeth. Chuckling he shook his head at me,  
“Ya shouldn'ta followed me missy.”  
“Cuz our boy lead you straight in to our territory...” came a cocky unfamiliar voice behind me. _Balls..._

I turned around to face the speaker, who stood a few paces away flanked by three of his cronies. The speaker looked older then the boy who stole the coins, a little closer to my age in fact, late teens to early twenties. He wore a slightly tattered tri-cornered hat, that sat on his head at an angle, adding to his crooked look with a slanted smile that he flashed at me.  
“Whats a pretty thing like you do'n chasing poor little Joe for eh?” he drawled, his eyes roving down from my face then back up, his cocky grin growing more lecherous as he did so. I felt my lip curl slightly at his gaze, taking a few steps away from him as he slowly started to saunter towards me.

“He has something that doesn’t belong to him.” I growled at the crooked man, glancing over my shoulder at “Joe” who was still grinning, swinging the coin purse in his hands. “And I would really like it back.” I said glaring at the kid. He just chuckled.

“Aw now we can't be do'n that, now can we boys?” the leader of the five said, causing the rest of the boys to respond with grunts and snickerings of “No sir,” “Not a chance”. The leader nodded his head, agreeing with his underlings statements before looking back at me,  
“But I'll tell ya what we will do. We'll let ya leave here all safe and sound, so longs as you don't call the guards, and-” he licked his lips as he stepped closer to me, looking me up and down again, “If ya let me have a peek under those pretty skirts of yours.” He chuckled, the rest of them joining him.

I sighed, sneering at the lecher in front of me, who seemed to be waiting for an answer.  
 _Okay, I hate Boston._  
I thought about screaming for help, but considering how attentive people had been during the chase, I doubted that would be very beneficial. So, I was left with one option, changing my sneer to a sardonic grin I replied,  
“Ooh, you want a peek?” and proceeded to yank my skirts clear up to my knees. For about point two seconds the leader stood gawking at my legs, right before my newly unencumbered boot met his groin. Before the leader even hit the ground I rounded on a stunned looking Joe, delivering an upper cut that sent him reeling and the coin bag flying. 

By this time one of the leaders cronies was able to gather his senses and go on the attack, grabbing my arm in an attempt to restrain me. Spinning around I socked him in the jaw, causing him to lurch backwards tripping over the leaders body who was still moaning on the ground. I was able to stay on my feet as the kid fell over, wrenching my wrist from his grasp as he tumbled, causing a little bit of my sleeve to tear. Joe was on his feet by then, bellowing as he came charging at me. This of course announced his intention, allowing me to easily doge his mad rush to tackle me. Joe was able to miss tripping over his leader, but couldn't stop him self from toppling the only member of the group that hadn't taken a swing at me.

By now the leader had over come most of the pain, lurching up from the ground to try and tackle my legs. He was successful in nabbing one, causing me to stumble, falling on to my back side. The leader wasted no time in crawling his way up my body, ignoring the kicks I was trying to deliver to him as he did so. He was able to pin one of my hands next to my head, but didn't bother restraining the other one as he raised his fist to strike. With my free hand I was able to deflect the brunt of the blow, but I wasn't fast enough to avert the strike entirely. His fist glanced the side of my mouth, causing me to bite my tongue a little bit and my lip to split open.

I didn't give him a chance to try again though, wrapping my legs around his waist I rolled us over, quickly jumping to my feet, and jerking my arm from his grasp as I did so. The leader seemed a little stunned as he laid there for a moment, before he scrambled to his feet to come at me with a shout grabbing me around my waist. I was able to divert his tackle in to a near by wall, knocking the wind out of me but knocking the senses out of him, seeing as he smacked in to it face first. He backed off clutching his head, which gave me the opportunity to spin him around and quite literally kick him the ass.

His comrades caught him as he stumbled in to them, helping him keep his feet as he staggered slightly, still stunned from running in to the wall. There was a pause then, as the lot of them faced me with varying looks of shock, pain, and from the leader, out right loathing. Blood dripped in to his eye as he glowered at me,  
“You bitch...” he growled wiping away the blood. He looked around him self then, noticing right about the same time I did, that I was a cornered rat. The leader grinned smugishly at me, 

“Well, well... seems the little spitfire is cornered,” he chortled, gesturing to the others around him, “And out numbered. You surprised us before with your tricks, but now we're ready for ya.” he said as they started forward. the boy's didn't seem that threatened by me now, some grinning while others cracked there knuckles at me in intimidation attempts. It didn't last long though, they hadn't taken two steps forward when a sudden, solid sounding _thud_ came from behind me, causing them to stop dead in their tracks. I jumped and spun around at the sound, raising a fist to strike, but froze when I recognized who it was,

“Connor?”

He ignored me for the moment, instead focusing solely on the thieves in front of him, pulling out his tomahawk and activating his hidden blade as he made his way forward. The gang bolted then, tripping over each other in their attempts to flee, with shouts of “Run!” “forget this!” “I like my hide!” before Connor could even come within striking distance of them. He stood there a moment, just watching as the last of the thieves disappeared around the corner before sheathing his weapons and turning back to me.

“What are you doing here?” Connor said, puzzlement evident in his voice as he frowned at me from under his hood.  
“Oh, I got done at the shop early and I thought 'Hey,-'” I chirped shrugging my shoulders a bit, “'you know what would complete my experience of this town? Getting mugged.'” I ended, rolling my eyes and planting my hands on my hips. Connor's frown deepened, apparently my sarcasm wasn't appreciated.  
“Look, I was just on my way back to the Inn when one of those boys nabbed the coin pouch you gave me. So... I chased him to get it back, and then... things got interesting.” I sighed looking away from him and to the ground, trying to find the troublesome bag. Spotting it, I scooped it up, handing it to Connor,  
“Can we just get to the Inn?” I said, dabbing at the corner of my mouth with my finger, smearing the blood there. I winced when I looked at my hand, seeing the end of my finger covered in blood. _Well I'm just a fine mess aren't I?_

Connor took a half step closer to me when I pulled my hand away, cocking his his head a little and extending his own hand,  
“Are you all right?”  
I waved him off, frowning slightly as I made my way out of the dead-end ally.  
“I'm fine Connor. Honestly, if I couldn't take a few hits I wouldn't of joined the order.”  
Connor sighed slightly as he followed me out, quickly taking the lead back to the Inn. The two of us were quiet for a while, till Connor broke the silence.

“You fight better during our training sessions.” he stated rather matter-of-factly, causing me to snort disbelievingly as I rounded on him,

“ _OF COURSE_ I fight better during training sessions! BECAUSE I AM NOT WEARING A SKIRT!” I nearly shouted at him, grabbing hand fulls of my skirt and shaking it in emphases. “Unless you're proposing I start wearing a dress to practice in... Honestly, it takes an entirely different kind of... _skill_ to fight in a skirt.” I said rather saucily, crossing my arms and glaring at him. He huffed slightly at me,

“Your methods were rather unorthodox.” He said ignoring my scowl.

“Pfft... 'unorthodox'-” I scoffed “ If I tried any sort of traditional methods I would of ended up flat on my-” _...wait._ I paused for a second, giving his offhanded statement a moment to sink in.  
“Were you _watching_ me?!” I said feeling my glower deepen as I slowly came to a stop. He paused mid step, giving me a look that just confirmed my suspicions.  
“how long were you just standing there, watching me flail about like over turned turtle?” I squeaked angrily at him.

“ I was up on the roof top, when I saw you run in to the ally after the boy. I decided to see how you would handle things.” Connor said giving me a miniscule shrug, before the corner of his mouth twitched up ever so slightly. “I suppose you did, in your own way.” _Oh balls he saw it all..._ I felt heat rise to my cheeks, and not all of it was anger. I quickly spun away from him, growling through gritted teeth as I did so, resuming my march towards the Inn. I could here Connors soft foot falls as he came after me,  
“Almira-”

“UHG! I can't believe you just... ERG! I mean really, oh my GOD Connor-” I stopped suddenly rounding on him again, holding up a splayed hand to his face, causing him to lurch back a bit.  
“I've had _five_ full days of training. FIVE.” I was nearly shouting again, waving my hand in his face. I probably was over reacting, but at the moment, I didn't care.  
“Do you really expect me to be _magically_ fantastic at fighting in just five days?! I... Just... ERRGH!” I stomped off again, rounding the bend in the road to finally come in sight of the Inn.

“Almira, that is not what-”

“ _Oh_ isn't it?” I growled over my shoulder at him, making a bee line for the Inn.

“No it is not.” he said sternly, following hot on my heels. 

“ Well, you're doing a _marvelous_ job of showing it.”

“Almira...” Connor grabbed my shoulder, halting my progress to the Inn and turning me to face him, “I did not intend to-” 

“Connor, quite frankly I don't care what you intended,” I bit out, before jerking my shoulder out of his grip and resuming the short walk to the Inn's door. “Because either way, it's insulting.” I heard him call after for a fourth time that night, but ignored him as I reached the door.  
The place was busy but wasn't overly crowded as I entered, and only a couple patrons looked at my disheveled appearance with alarm. A quick scan of the place allowed me to spot Achilles, sitting in a poorly lit, back corner talking to another man who's face I couldn't see. I immediately stared weaving my way through the tables towards him, at the moment, I wanted nothing more then to clean up and get out of this _damn dress._

“Almira,” Achilles said with a look of surprise as I came up next to the table he was seated at, “what happened? Are you all right?” I sighed and shook my head,

“long story short; trouble, and honestly I'm fine.” I sighed again, “Achilles do we have rooms here? I'd really like to clean up.” Achilles nodded and began to stand, 

“Of course, let me get the Inn keeper.” 

“No need Achilles, allow me.” said the other man at the table, who I hadn't even acknowledged till now. He looked to be in his late thirties or early forties, with brown hair that was pulled back in to a pony tail. His cloths looked a little ragtag, but the man carried him self with a dignified air, like he was proud to be who he was. The man stood, raising his hand to catch the attention of an average looking woman, who had been attending to several other tables. Spotting us the woman nodded, letting us know she'll be right there in a moment, allowing the man time to introduce him self. Turning to me he smiled, 

“You must be the new arrival Achilles mentioned, I'm Samuel Adams.” the man said with a polite bow of his head. I was rather proud of my self, for not displaying the fact that I was stunned to near silence at meeting one of _America's Founding Fathers._ I smiled at Adams, giving him my best attempt at a curtsy,  
“I'm Almira Woodson. Pleasure to meet you.”

“Almira, what a lovely name, I- Connor!” Adams' attention was diverted behind me, raising his hand in greeting to the very man I was currently trying to get away from. Connor stepped up beside me, giving Adams a friendly, but distracted, greeting before turning to me. Unfortunately (but thankfully) he didn't get a chance to say anything, before he could get a word out the woman ( who I assumed to be the Inn keepers wife... or daughter, it was hard to tell.) walked up.

“Is their something I can do for you?” She said with the slightest hint of a British accent, smiling politely at Adams. It was Achilles, however, who responded.

“Would you take Almira here to her room? She's had a long day.” the woman wrinkled her nose at Achilles, before she turned and asked me to follow her. The rooms Achilles and Connor had procured were up a set of stairs and down a hall that, from the sounds of it, was situated right above the tavern below. She lead me all the way down the hall, stopping at the second to last room on the right.  
“I'll bring you some hot water and a towel.” she said as she opened the door to the room, letting me step in side. 

“Oh, um,” I mumbled as I spun around to face her, catching her before she left, “would it be possible for me to borrow a needle and thread?” I said gesturing to my torn sleeve. The woman smiled politely, assuring me she could accommodate me, before disappearing down the hall. The room I was apparently staying in was small, with a cramped but clean looking bed pushed against the wall, and a small dresser and heating stove across from it. There was also a window sporting an exciting view of neighboring roof top, the likes of which seemed to need repair.

It was several minutes later before the woman came back, carrying a small wash pan with a steaming pitcher of water, and a towel over her shoulder. She set the pan, pitcher and towel down on the dresser, pulling out a spool of thread from her apron pocket and adding it to the collection.  
“If you need anything else, just let us know.” she said as she walked out of the room, not waiting for a response. I thought her abruptness was odd, but brushed it off, currently not really caring. What I did care about, was getting this dress off and cleaning up. I immediately stripped off the dress and put on the shirt and trousers I had brought with me, before going over to the wash pan to take care of my face.

My lip stung a bit as I cleaned it, but really didn't look that bad once all the dirt and blood was gone(my hair was a mess though, even after I let it down and combed though it with my fingers, but that seemed to be a fact of life for me.). By the time I had done all this the room was rather dark, with night settling in and all that. So I set to work, lighting a couple candles and a single lantern by the bed to illuminate the room. After that was all said and done, I set to the task of trying to stitch the dress back together. The tear in the sleeve really wasn't that bad, but it still needed to be fixed, and while my seamstress skills were not something to brag about, I could still mend simple rips. Curling up on the bed, next to the lantern I begun slowly stitching the sleeve back together. However about half way through the process, there came a knock on my door. 

“Almira? May I speak with you?”

It was Connor. I sighed, now that I wasn't boiling in embarrassment and anger, I did feel a little regretful over some of the things I said.

“Yeah, come in.” 

The door slowly opened, reveling a slightly wary Connor, who's hair looked lightly tousled from spending most of the day in his hood. stepping in to the room and closing the door to behind him (but not letting it lach.)He looked at me, standing there awkwardly for a moment, before he finally spoke,

“I... need to apologize.” he said, glancing down at his feet. To be honest I really wasn't expecting an apology, not a straight-up one anyway. I expected to wake up tomorrow morning and have a series of awkward, stinted conversations, that would eventually lead to awkward, stinted apologies.  
At least this cut to the chase.

“It was not my intention to insult you,” Connor said as he looked from his feet back to me, “ You have shown much skill in training, and demonstrated your ability when you were in the ally. I should not of made light of it the way I did, and for that I am sorry.” He said, shifting his weight from foot to foot, glancing between his toes and me. I sighed, looking away from him and to my hands, currently twisting the half mended dress between them selves. 

“I need to apologize too.” I mumbled at my lap before looking back up to see Connors confused yet curios face. “I... probably over reacted a bit.” I set the sewing aside as I stood, pulling my hair over my shoulder to fidget with it. 

“Me getting so up set was mostly due to... embarrassment.” Connor looked perplexed for a moment before it seemed to dawn on him.

“Oh...”

“I don't run around in a dress and at the first sign of trouble show a bunch of leg, I-” I rubbed my face to keep from looking at him, feeling heat rise to my ears and cheeks as I tried to explain my self.  
“It was just the first thing that popped in to my head when that guy was all like 'lift up your skirt! Give us peek!' I just thought 'what the hell? It'll distract them _and_ free up my boot.' and it did and it worked and... honestly you really can't keep much propriety when fighting in a skirt anyway so why not-”

“Almira.” Connor said, placing a hand on my shoulder to stop my ranting and pacing. I hadn't realized I _was_ pacing. I looked at him and sighed.

“Look I'm sorry, really. I was just embarrassed... and apparently I still am. I mean, the reason I was okay with hiking up my skirts in front of them, was because I was planning on kicking there ass' anyway. So-”

“Almira...” Connor interrupted me again, this time with a slightly amused look on his face. “ I understand. I also apologize for teasing you on this,” He let go of my shoulder to take a step back, “ It probably did not help with matters.”

“No, not really...” I said, feeling the corner of my mouth twitch up slightly at his expression, “But honestly, I could be a better sport about these things. I mean really Connor,” I said shrugging my shoulders and planting my hands on my hips, “you can answer this honestly; you thought it was damn funny when I pulled that stunt and started the fight didn't you?”

He crossed his arms as he leaned back a little, the corner of his mouth inching a little higher as he did so. “I found it... amusing.” 

I found my self chuckling, as I shook my head at him, the two of us just standing there grinning at each other. After a moment Connor glanced around before looking back to me, idly scratching the back of his neck.

“I should let you get some rest.” he said, taking a step towards the door.

“Yeah, I... suppose I should let you get some too.” I said a little lamely, my hands returning to my hair to fidget with.

He smiled one of his small smiles at me again as he reach the door, “Good night Almira.”

“ g'night Connor.” 

Connor gave me one last nod before he left, shutting the door behind him. 

 

I still wasn't completely confident about being here, or about joining the Assassins. Although if people like Connor were wrapped up in it all, I think I'd probably make it. Maybe this whole time-travel brew-ha-ha wasn't going to be such a bad thing after all.


	5. chapter 5 part 1

I'm really bad with constellations.

I can usually find the big dipper, and some times the little dipper, but that's about it. I enjoy it though, staring at the stars. I never really could see them that well back home, too much light. Here though, here in the darkness before the time of the light bulb I could see them, all of them. Thousands of distant lights sparkling in the sky, their luminescence only dimmed by a stray wisp of cloud and the misting of my breath. 

The nights have been growing steadily colder, preparing the world for winter's chill, as is autumn's job I suppose. It's almost like I am not meant to enjoy warm weather, seeing as I was plopped here a little over a month and a half ago at the tail end of summer. I was only able to sort of enjoy a couple weeks of heat, and even then, that time was spent training. Non stop training. All day every day, which only left me “free time” at nights, which of course was supposed to be spent sleeping. Yet here I was, wrapped up in a blanket on the balcony, just staring at the night sky. I suppose the reason I did it every night was because of the sense of peace it gave me.

I knew it wouldn't last though. There was a war coming, and it was coming _soon_ , I just didn't know how soon. That's partially why I never complain about training, I needed to be ready for when it did come. Well, that and I actually enjoy the training. I've recently gotten to the point in hand to hand where I've become a slight challenge to Connor, which can be endlessly entertaining. I often feel like a squirrel taunting a bear, a dangerous game to say the least, but it's so damn _fun_. 

“ _Almira?_ ” 

Connor's voice called softly from inside the house. A second went by before I heard it again, his voice sounding perplexed. I sighed before sitting up and turning back to the balcony door,

“Out here Connor.” I called to him through the door. A few seconds went by before the door opened, revealing the outline of Connor, still fully dressed in his Assassin robes.

“Almira?” He asked again, his shadowy outline not budging from the door way. I guess his eyes were still adjusting to the dark.

“Down here, watch your step.”

A moment went by before he took a few tentative steps towards me, half way shutting the door behind him.

“What are you doing out here?” he said, stopping a few feet away from me.

“Looking for the Seven Sisters. I know they gotta be around here some where.” I said laying back down to stare at the sky.

“the... Seven Sisters?”

I turned my head to look at Connors silhouette, currently to far away for me to make out any detail, but his head was slightly cocked to the side like a quizzical puppy's.

“They're a group of stars, my sister and I had a bit of an obsession of it when we were younger. Evelyn and I would sit out side and just... stare at the night sky for hours looking for them.” I giggled slightly at the memory, “Until mom or dad would come out and drag us back inside.” 

Connor was silent for a moment, before he took a few steps closer and sat down next to me. “You have never mentioned your sister before.” 

I paused for a moment, feeling a little guilty at his words.

“I suppose I've been trying to avoid remembering my family, so I can avoid missing them.” I said, sitting up and curling my legs under me Indian style. “Isn't working though, too many little things remind me them. It's like the harder I try to not remember, the more I actually end up remembering.” I sighed, pulling my blanket tighter around my shoulders, trying to stave off the nights chill. 

“You should not turn away from such things. Remembering the ones you love can be a strength, not a weakness.” He shifted slightly, turning towards me before he continued. “I remember my mother nearly every day, and while I miss her deeply, I draw strength from it, I draw strength from her memory.” he lapsed in to silence then, the out line of his head slightly bowed and turned in the direction of his feet, before once again facing me.

“ Tell me of your sister, -Evelyn was it?- Tell me of her and your fascination with the stars.” He said, gesturing to aforementioned stars above us. I scoffed slightly, not really wanting to tell him of two young girls silliness, but maybe talking about family would help me relieve some of this built up longing I had for them.

“Um, yeah, Evelyn, my older sister by about four years... Anyway, when I was about five, Eve heard the story of the Seven Sisters. The part of the myth she sort of focused on was how the Seven Sisters were immortalized by the Greek god Zeus, who turned them in to stars. I really don't know why Zeus did it, but to two young girls, the thought of being awesome enough to be turned in to stars is an enchanting one to say the least.” I giggled slightly as the memories flickered by like someone showing off a bunch of slides.

“ During the time of our obsession with this, my mother told us that she was pregnant. Eve and I got so excited, and I not knowing any better _begged_ mom to have a girl. 'Please mom please!' I would say, 'can Eve and I have a sister please? Can we have a sister so we can become stars?'” I chuckled again, putting a hand to my face in slight embarrassment.

“Lucky for her she had a girl, two in fact. Twins. Linette and Layla... By the time they were old enough to understand the concept of constellations, Eve and I had grown out of our obsession the stars. We still taught them about it though, mostly because dad always referred to us as his 'Little Stars'.” I lapsed into silence then, looking back up in to the night sky. It had actually been a while since dad had called us Little Stars, I think the last time he did was at Evelyn's wedding during his speech. _“My Little Stars aren’t so little any more...”_ he had said to the crowd, making nearly every other woman in the room tear up. That was three years ago.

“I miss being a star...” I mumbled almost inaudibly at my feet, pulling on my blanket again. The silence between Connor and I stretched nearly to the point of uncomfortableness, before he spoke.

“ Just because your family cannot see you, does not mean you stopped being part of them.” Connor said quietly to me, his silhouette leaning forward slightly as if to try and look me in the eye.  
“Think on the stars you love. They do not cease to be stars when morning comes, or when clouds fill the night sky, they are simply out of sight. Stars will always be stars, Almira. Family will always be family.”

I found my self just staring at his silhouette for a moment, feeling a smile slowly spread across my face. “So... Are you saying I'm still a star?” I asked him playfully. Connor chuckled slightly, shaking his head as he did so.

“Yes Almira, you are still a star.”

We shared a giggle for another moment, before we lapsed back into silence. Perhaps it was time to go back inside.

“Well, I suppose I should get to bed. Don't want to be tossed about like a rag doll because I'm half asleep.” I said as I stood up, followed closely by Connor.

“Actually, I wanted to speak to you about tomorrow.” He said as we entered the manor. I turned back to him just as he shut the door, now able to make out some of his features in the light if the single, half-burned candle. Connor looked tired, his eyes weren't as alert as usual, and his shoulders drooped slightly. He was an incredibly busy man, always doing something. When not training me he was off doing something else, helping the homesteaders, or down at the docks with Mr. Faulkner, or just away. Come to think of it I don't believe I've ever seen him just sit down and relax.

“ I will be sailing out at about noon, there are things that require the Aquila's presence. It will most likely be a few weeks before I return, so Achilles will take up your training until then.”

“Oh...” I said, slightly surprised at the sudden turn of events. 

“Is something the matter?” He asked, his head tilting to the side ever so slightly as he looked at me.

“No, no nothing. I just... I'm a little surprised is all.” I scrunched my nose up, making a face at my self. “But I suppose I shouldn't be, I mean you have been going down to the docks quite a bit lately, so it's only logical that you've been planing a trip.” I said shrugging at him. Connor straightened, pausing for a moment as he looked at me, before a small frown appeared. Before he could say anything however, I chirped, 

“Anyway, I should get to bed. Knowing Achilles, he wont much appreciate a tired student.” I smiled at Connor, who stood there with his frown for a moment longer, before finally letting it fall and replacing it with a ghost of a smile.

“No, he does not.” He said in his usual calm tone, but with a slight hint of humor. I smiled once more at him, before I turned and headed to my room, which was just across the hall. 

“Good night Almira.” I heard Connor say softly, just as I touched the door knob. I looked back to see that he had taken a few steps towards his own room, pausing next to the staircase as he himself looked back at me. 

“G'night Connor,” I said, feeling another smile tug at my lips. “and safe sailing. Don't go crashing that ship of yours and leaving me all alone with Achilles. _I'll_ never survive past the first few weeks.”

Connor smiled and huffed humorously at that, “I will do my best.” he said with a nod as he started to take a step towards his room. “Sleep well.” 

I nodded back, the smile on my face quirking itself in to a half grin. “You too Connor.” I said as I opened the door, getting one last glance of Connors half almost smile before my door closed behind me.

 

_____ 

 

The morning sun glistened on the frost, making the world shine a little for early birds like myself. I had gotten up before Achilles, which was usual, so I simply grabbed a slice of bread (as well as my hat) and scrawled a note for the senior assassin, before heading out the back door. There was a light fog hanging around the docks, but even from this distance I could see the hustle and bustle of the sailors preparing the _Aquila_ for a voyage. I knew Connor was down there with them, it was him leaving the manor that actually woke me this morning. I wasn't going to go down there though, we had basically said our goodbyes the night before, not to mention I would most likely just get in the way. No, I was going to use this free hour or so to do the thing I loved most in this world;

Horse back riding.

The stables currently held four horses, the black gelding and red roan mare were mainly used for the carriage, the other two (a chocolate colored mare and a buttermilk buckskin gelding) were the primary saddle horses. Or I should say the other _one_. Apparently a few days before my “arrival” they had purchased a pair of riding horses – saddles and all – for next to nothing, and soon found out why. The two were buddy sour - never wanting to leave each others side - and to top it all off, the mare was meaner then a junk yard dog. Achilles and Connor weren't sure what to do with them at first, not until I was able to get my hands on the pair. In just the short month I've been able to work with them, the two have nearly completely gotten over their case of buddy sour-ness and the mare... well I can ride her without much trouble.

“Good morning little Birdie!” I cooed to the mare, who nickered happily in greeting before throwing her head up, curling her lips back and smacking them together. It was one of the strangest gestures I had ever seen a horse do, but for what ever reason it was Birdie's sign of a good mood. I chuckled slightly at her display before saddling her up for a morning ride. For the sake of a quiet ride, I turned her in the opposite direction of the mill, going to the slightly more “wild” side of the property, and past the road that lead to the harbor. 

I paused there, wondering if maybe I should go down and say goodbye again, would he like that? Would he mind? I couldn't make up my mind, but in the end I didn't have too. Birdie, tired of simply standing on a road she'd rather be running on, began to fidget her way down it, taking us in the opposite direction of the docks. I sighed, deciding that the mare was probably right, we came out here to play not to dawdle about. I turned her on to a narrow road that lead further in to the woods, but one we had been on a few times before, so I felt comfortable enough to let the mare run for a bit. It took no urging from me to get her to run, I simply had to signal my readiness for it. Leaning forward I whispered  
“Fly on little Birdie.”  
and with a delighted squeal she jumped forward, thundering down the path.

It was exhilarating and comforting, to be able to do something that was so familiar and so carefree to me. This wasn't something new, or something that required additional training, this was something I did everyday back home. When Birdie slowed down to an easy going canter, I let my eyes close. If I simply listened to her hoof beats, felt the wind tug at my hair and hat, I could almost imagine the ranch. I could almost hear the cattle calling to each other, or hear the boys joke amongst them selves, or just make out the distant noise of the highway. 

**_BANG_ **

The loud noise and Birdie's reaction to it yanked me from my reverie, bringing me back to reality just as the spooked mare leapt sideways at the sound. 

“Easy, there Birdie, easy.” I soothed the mare, as I listened to the last of the echos fade away. _Gun shot. That was a gun shot._ The only reason I could think of someone using a gun (way out here anyway) was to hunt, and the only hunter I could think of was Connor, _and he doesn't use guns_. Not to hunt anyway. I doubted anyone back at the manor could of heard it, Birdie and I had gone fairly deep in to the woods, and the shot was even farther in. I tried to listen for another shot, but instead I heard the distant murmurs of voices. At least I think I did, it was hard to tell. _Could they be poachers?_ I thought, _does the homestead's lands extend this far? If they are poachers whats the policy for handling them? Should I check it out?_ I sat there on Birdie for a moment, trying to figure out whether or not I should go. _Well, I suppose if they are poachers, they'll most likely run away before I get to them..._ I shrugged at the thought, finally deciding to go see what I could see.

Birdie was still spooked about the noise, now twitching at nearly every sound, but she obediently trotted in the direction I had pointed her in. It was probably a solid fifteen to twenty minutes down the road when I heard the first clear noise; a pained moan. At the sound I urged Birdie in to a canter, coming around the bend to see a woman walking slowly down the road, cradling her bloody left arm to her chest. And the sound of birdie's hooves, the woman's head snapped up, pain, anger, and a little bit of desperation were evident on her face.

“Please, can you help me!” she said as I pulled Birdie to a stop a little ways ahead of her, glancing about quickly for signs of a trap before hopping off. _Too many movies_ , I thought to my self as I approached her,

“What happened?”

“Poachers in the woods, I asked them to leave-” a wave of pain crossed over her face, causing her to wince slightly and clutch her arm a little tighter. “-They answered with a musket ball.” 

“Damn, they shot you for that?” I said as I leaned closer to look at her arm, frowning at the damage I could see. There was a definite hole in her arm, but it was mostly a mess of blood and dirty fabric, with the blood flow staunched by a sloppily applied tourniquet. “Ass hole doesn't even begin to describe them.” I snarled before straightening, and gesturing to Birdie, “I don't have anything with me, but I can take you back to the house that I'm staying at. We can take care of your arm there.” 

“But, what of the men who did this?” she exclaimed, gesturing to her bloody arm and glancing back down the road, I scoffed slightly,

“Seriously, you're bleeding all over, now's not the time for head hunting, we can do that later.” She seemed a little taken back by my words, but didn't argue any further as I lead her over to Birdie.

“So, what were you doing out here?” I asked the woman as we came to a halt next to the mare. Birdie eyed the strange woman grumpily, pinning her ears back and flicking her tail in am unhappy manner. If there was one perk to Birdie's bitchiness, it was the fact that I didn't have to worry about her getting stolen. 

“I was coming to get permission to hunt on this land. I'm a huntress by trade, living where the land makes it easiest.” She said as I grabbed Birdie's reins, trying to steady the cantankerous mare so the woman could get on. It was a bit of a struggle for her, with only one working arm and all, but with a little help from me she was finally able to sit atop the mare. I swung up after her, careful not to kick the other woman as I did so, settling in the saddle before turning Birdie towards the manor.

“Doesn't sound easy, the whole hunter by trade thing.” I said as Birdie picked up a light trot. I glanced back at the woman, trying to see if Birdie's gait was jarring at all for her, but she seemed unfazed by it. Perhaps she had reached the height of her pain a while ago.

“Well, to be honest, it was either this, the convent or the brothels. I prefer the open air.” the woman replied a little defensively. I was slightly confused by her list of... occupations before I remembered, _it's 1773, women didn't have a lot of options. If at all._ I turned my head towards her again and nodded,

“I here ya... My names Almira by the way.” 

the woman nodded in return and smiled slightly at me, “Myriam.”

We stuck to light chatter after that, I not really having many questions for her anymore, and Myriam was becoming more and more absorbed with tending to her arm. It was close to an hour before we came with in sight of the manor, and I was glad of it. Myriam's arm was still bleeding, and she was having an increasing amount trouble with staying on Birdie's back. Every once in a while her hand had grabbing my shoulder, now it stayed there. I was starting to wonder if she might pass out from blood loss, when I finally pulled Birdie to a stop in front of the manor.

“We're here.” I said as I slid off the mare, before helping a slightly unsteady Myriam down as well.  
“Achilles!” I called as I opened the door, leading Myriam in side. I called for the elder Assassin again as I lead the woman to towards the kitchen, knowing there was at least clean water there so we could start cleaning her wound.

“What is it child?” came Achilles' voice, followed by the sound of his limping gait and cane as he emerged from his room. His eye's widened in shock as he came with in sight of the bloodied woman I was escorting, “What happened?” he said as he followed us in to the kitchen.

“Grouchy ass poachers...” I growled as I grabbed the kettle and set it over the fire. I heard Achilles sigh before addressing the question to Myriam as I busied my self with finding the bandages. As I rummaged through a few of the cupboards, I could hear Myriam tell Achilles the same thing she told me, ending her story just as I found the bandages. When I brought them over to where Myriam was sitting, I noticed Achilles giving me a slightly hard look. 

“You must take care of them.” 

“What?” I said, a little apprehensive to what I thought he was implying.

“Those men are a danger to all who live here, they must be dealt with.”

“But Achilles, I-”

“But nothing.” Achilles said sternly as he faced me fully, “If I did not think you capable, I wouldn't send you.” The senior Assassin gestured towards his room as he turned away from me and back to Myriam. “There is a dagger on my desk, take it with you, I can attend to the young lady here.”

I stared at his back for a moment, feeling uneasy about the entire thing, before slowly going retrieve the dagger. The dagger sat in its sheath, an old piece of leather with stitching that was showing signs of wear. The dagger itself looked worn, the grip rubbed smooth with a few nicks and dents in it, but the blade it's self was still sharp. I attached the weapon to my belt, giving Achilles' back one last look before I went back out to Birdie. The mare was a little less then pleased, when I turned her back in the direction of the forest, and not the barn, but she eventually settled in to an even canter. 

I honestly didn't think Achilles was in the right, not with sending me out here. I should have gone and gotten Connor, it wasn't noon yet, he should still be in port readying the _Aquila. I could still go,_ I thought, _just turn Birdie around._ I battled with this as Birdie ran on, letting out tired snorts every few strides before I finally let her slow down to an easy walk. Once we reached the spot where I had heard the gun shot, and I decided that getting Connor would wast too much time, so I rode on stopping only when I got to the point where I met Myriam.

Connor had started teaching me about tracking only about a week ago, so my skills in this were mediocre at best. I knew I had to try though, if Achilles thought me capable, then I had to. So I slid off of Birdie, leading her down the road, in the direction Myriam had been coming from when I found her. I could see a few spots of blood on the road, but they were few and far between, and I was having difficulty finding her boot prints in the dust. It took me a long while before I found the spot where she had been shot, or at least I thought it might be the spot. A stark red hand print (one matching the size of the bloody hand print I had on my shirt), was smeared on a birch tree, revealing that Myriam had at least been here. 

I tied Birdie to the tree and circled the area a few times, trying to find any sign of the poachers. I'm not sure how long I did this, just going round and around the area, finding nothing. Finally after what seemed like forever I gave up, throwing my hands up in the air and letting out a frustrated growl I went back over to Birdie, ready to ride back to the manor and admit my defeat. Mounting up on the mare, I glanced to the sky, wondering if maybe I could go get Connor (seeing as it wasn't noon yet), when I saw it. Wispy gray smoke swirled above the trees in almost the exact opposite direction from where I had been looking. It had to be the Poachers.

I let Birdie pick her way through the forest, slowly making our way towards the source of the smoke, but before long I heard the sounds of conversation.

“- Should go back home, she 'ad no business be'n out here.” 

“ Yeah, not sure wut she thought she was play'n at. 'Get permission' puh... no one out here but us!”

“Well, I her'd there's a little community form'n around these parts.”

“There's a _mill_ , Frank, one measly _mill_. That's hardly the beginnings of a community.”

“Well... it's still someth'n-”

“Quiet! I think I heard someth'n!”

Their conversation halted when the sound of Birdie's hooves could be heard rustling in the leaves, announcing our presence to them. I knew they couldn't see me yet, since their camp was located on a small rise in the forest, so it gave me a little bit of time to think of a plan. But not much... _okay, okay, don't panic_ I thought, _You've spent the past month training for scenarios like this! Think!_

“Someone out there?” one of the voices shouted, just before a head covered by a ratty hat popped up over the edge of the rise. _Alright, they probably all have muskets, which means I need to get closer. Make there guns too awkward to use._ I thought, so I decided to try and play friendly, waving at the man as Birdie trudged up the hill.

“Howdy!” I said, as with one last lurch Birdie reached the top, bringing me with in sight of the camp. I glanced around the place, seeing four other men besides the one next to the ridge, all of them armed with muskets. I couldn't see any other weapon besides their muskets, but I assumed at least one of them welded a knife of some kind, how else could they have skinned and prepared the three rabbits that hung over the fire. _I gotta be real clever about this_ , I thought to myself as I looked to the man standing besides the ridge, gripping his musket in his hands as he slowly approached me. 

“Who are you?” he asked as he peered at me from under his tattered hat. I smiled, letting Birdie take a few more steps in to the camp before I dismounted, 

“A wanderer.” I replied, tipping my hat at him, before I faced the rest of the poachers. “Saw the smoke from your camp...” The lot of them slowly stood as I walked leisurely in to their camp. _No bayonets, makes things easier_. “...and I wondered who would be way out here in the middle of nowhere.” 

“Just some hunters little girl, now why don't ya go back home and get out of yer brothers britches 'fore sumth'n bad happens.” a man with a crooked nose said to me, tucking his musket in to the crook of his arm as he did so. I continued walking slowly towards them, seeing out of the corner of my eye that the tattered hat man was slowly trying to come up behind me. Meanwhile, Birdie on my right was little by little getting more agitated by the presence of the strange men, her ears slowly becoming pinned back as we got closer to the group.

“Oh? Some thing bad?” I said, a bit of mockery slipping in to my voice as I came to a stop in front of them.  
“like getting shot by poachers, maybe?”

There was a pause while my words sunk in, before crooked nose finally scoffed, “Ooh, that little wench had a friend? Ya think ya'd learn from her mistake...” he said as he raised his rifle and pulled the trigger,

but I was no longer there.

The man was cocky and overconfident, almost lazily raising his musket, which allowed me plenty of time to duck and roll forward, bringing me with in striking distance of him. I stood, grabbing his now empty gun by the barrel and yanking it away from him, as well as delivering a hard kick to his gut. The man fell backwards, clutching his belly while I turned to deal with the next man. Using the first mans gun as a sort of club, I knocked the second's aside before he could even fully raise it, hearing it go off and feeling the dirt spatter my back as the bullet hit the ground. Dropping the musket from my hands, I stomped the side of the seconds knee, hearing a sickening crunch and then the mans screams.

The third man's musket had apparently not been loaded, as he himself tried to use it as a club, taking a wild swing at me with it. I ducked just in time, tackling the man to the ground before he could take another swing. As I sat up to deliver a punch, I noticed the fourth man's musket barrel pointed at me just in time for me to roll off of number three, hearing the gun's report and another man's scream from behind me. I didn't bother to look who it was, instead I stood, and lunged at the shooter, delivering a wild kick to his side. 

The man stumbled a little, but shook off the effects of the kick, dropping his spent musket and pulling out a large hunting knife. I in turn drew Achilles' dagger, jumping back as the man took a swipe at me, and again as he repeated the attack. When he tried a third time I stepped closer, halting his swing and burying the borrowed dagger in to his knife arm. He cried out, stumbling backwards as he dropped his knife clutching at the hole in his arm. The man wasn't an immediate threat any more, so I took a glance at the other men, and it was then that I realized I had forgotten the-man-with-the-tattered-hat.

But Birdie hadn't.

The man was currently trying to crawl awkwardly away from the horse, breathing shallowly and clutching at his chest. Judging by his behavior and Birdie's(who was standing off to the side of the encampment now, angrily stomping and making small little kicking gestures towards the crawling man), I deduced that the man had received a solid kick to his chest. Good pony I thought as I looked to the rest of the men. The first one I had gut kicked, had apparently taken the fourth man's bullet to the shoulder, and sat clutching the wound next to the one with a mangled knee. Only the third man remained unscathed, holding his empty musket in his hands as we faced each other. I stepped closer to him welding my dagger, causing him to dance backwards a little bit,

“I strongly suggest you take your comrades and leave this place while you can...” I growled at the remaining man, hoping they would take the bluff, “ before you're unable to leave at all.” He stood there a moment, looking as if he was teetering on the edge of attacking or retreating, when crooked nose spoke up.

“Leave 'er Frank, s'not worth the trouble.” Crooked Nose said to the unharmed man, before he looked to me, “we'll go,” He grunted, hate and pain twisting his features as he glared, “We'll leave... but this isn't over ya little shit.” 

I matched his glare, letting venom drip in to my words, “ Oh, I very much think it is... Now go, before I lose my patience!” Crooked Nose sneered but said nothing, instead he gathered his comrades and collected the half cooked rabbits, before they all limped and stumbled their way back to the road. I watched them leave, even when they reached the road, I sat atop an agitated Birdie and watched them disappear down the road. When I was satisfied that they had gone I turned the grumpy mare towards the manor, letting the tired horse pick her own pace back to the house.

It was well over an hour before Birdie finally came to a stop in the manor's paddock. The two of us were a bit worn from our adventure this morning, (Birdie more so then I) but I still took the time to rub the mare down and feed her (along with the other horses of course) before going in side the house. By this time it was almost noon, the mid autumn sun hanging high in the sky, however from the back porch of the manor I could see the _Aquila's_ masts sitting idly in the bay. _Wonder whats keeping them?_ I thought as I walked through the door, catching what seemed like the tail end of a conversation between Achilles and Myriam.

“-here and once your arm is healed, I see no reason that prevents you from hunting in these woods.”

“Thank you Achilles, for everything. I- oh hello again Almira!” Myriam chirped as I walked in to the Kitchen, hanging up my hat and ruffling up my hair. Myriam looked a lot better, her arm hanging in a sling as she sat and talked with Achilles. 

“Ah there you are,” Achilles said as he stood, limping over to me and then began herding me out of the kitchen. “ How did things go?” Achilles took my arm and directed me down the hall, towards the stair case as he waited for his answer.

“They're gone.” I said, glancing at the elder Assassin and back to the kitchen.

“The poachers are dead?” 

I blinked at Achilles, “Uh... no.”

He sighed, “They will be back you know...”

“I doubt that,” I said defensively, “and even if they do, it'll be a good long while before any of them are up for the task...”

“You should have killed them, then there wouldn't be a risk of them returning.”

“I couldn't kill them!” I squeaked at him, “Not all of them! Only one of the poachers shot Myriam, that doesn't mean they should all die!”

“Then you should have killed him.” Achilles sighed again, “hm, but I suppose what's done is done, may the consequences bear lightly on us all.” he mumbled the last before waving me towards the stairs. “Go and change out of that bloody shirt of yours, Connor is waiting for you down by the docks,” He then began turning back towards the kitchen before continuing, “ We'll discuss this further on your return.” and with that the conversation had ended.

I stood if front of the stairway, staring at the retreating elder's back, feeling... angry, hurt. Had I not done as he asked? I was told to deal with them and I had! He said nothing about killing anyone. With a huff I made may way upstairs, doing my best _not_ to stomp on each step like a child would. I grumbled the entire time I was in my room, ripping off the blood stained shirt and nearly popping a button in the process, to mixing up the buttons and button holes on the clean one twice. Needless to say my mood had worsened by the time I left my room, angrily yanking on my jacket as I walked down the stairs (again, trying my best _not_ to stomp, although failing on the last three steps.) and exiting through the front doors, bypassing the kitchen entirely.

I didn't refrain from stomping all the way down to the docks though, releasing my anger through a physical action helped me calm down and relax a little bit. I had finally eased down to a more normal walk by the time I reached the clearing, only then realizing that I hadn't asked the most obvious question; _Why_ was Connor waiting for me?


	6. chapter 5 part 2

_Why on earth has Connor not left yet?_

The thought echoed through my mind as I walked through the clearing, seeing only empty caravan wagons and the old wooden-legged man mingling in it. The true commotion was on the ship,with the sailors shouting to each other seemingly preparing to launch. Among these voices I could hear Connor's, calling out what sounded like orders, but I couldn't see him.

Walking up to the ramp leading to the ship deck, I called out for Connor, seeing a few of the sailors pause in their work to look at me and point me out to their fellows. I was about to try calling to him again, when someone appeared at the top of the ramp, the stranger's blue coat flapping in the breeze as he gazed at me.

“Almira! We have been waiting here for over an hour, what took you so long?” The man said in a familiar voice, staring down at me from under his large, blue tricorn hat, and then I got a good look at his face.

“Connor!?” 

I was surprised to see Connor dressed in something so... _spiffy_. I was so used to seeing him in either his assassin robes, or the simple pair of trousers and dark brown shirt he wore for training. This though, this made him look quite dashing, from his dark blue overcoat right down to the deep brown boots he wore.  
But the hat could go...

Connor sighed, looking extremely impatient as he stepped down the ramp towards me. “Almira, we should have set sail an hour ago. Now come on, your things are on board, we are just waiting for you.”

“Wait, what?” I said, confusion overriding my admiration for his choice of clothing. “My things? Why... why are my things on the ship? _Who_ put my thing on the ship? And what ,i >things?!” 

Connor's surly expression mixed with his own dose of confusion as he looked at me, “Did Achilles not tell you?”

“Tell me what?! All he said was that you were waiting for me, that was it!” 

Connor sighed again and almost, _almost_ , rolled his eyes “ Achilles and I agreed that your training should include some seafaring expertise, and that this voyage could provide it.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” I said, taking a few steps back from Connor and the ramp, as a little worm of fear wiggled its way in to my gut. “When was this decided, and why wasn't I told about it?” 

“This morning. You had gone riding when I brought the idea to the old man,” Connor still had that tinny hint of confusion on his face, but it was slowly being replaced by an increasing amount of annoyance, as he watched me back away from him. “You had not returned by the time Achilles consented, so I gathered some of your things and told him to send you, once you had finished with your ride.”

“You took... You went in to my room and... uhgn... wh-WHY is this necessary!?” I squeaked at him, “I don't see why it's necessary! I mean I can get around on land just fine, why screw that up?”

Connor arched an eye brow at me, “It is necessary because not everything happens on land. Trade routes may need to be cleared, vessels in need of an armed escort, there may even be places we must reach that are only accessible by sea.”

I frowned at him. _Logic, why is it always logic?_ I thought as I nervously eyed the boat then Connor,  
“Well, that's.. Okay, but why do I need to learn the seafaring thing? I mean, you seem to like it and know it just fine, so... Why don't I stay here and handle the ground things and you can float around and do your captain-y thing...” I said shrugging at him, feeling a nervous smile pull at the corners of my mouth.

Connor's reaction was an expression I didn't think I could categorize. Flabbergasted, impatience, and annoyance were all mixed in to one. “Almira,” he said after a slight pause, “There might be times where I cannot captain the _Aquila_ , and I will need someone, _you_ , to see that whatever mission requires her presence is done.”

“I-I-I-I... just no. No Connor. I can't... I'm not... this... this isn't a good idea.” I stuttered as I tried to come up with a logical excuse as to why I couldn't go. Connor frowned at me, as I took a nervous step back.

“I do not understand, what is wrong?”

“I'm... I'm bad luck.” _So much for logic..._ “Because... because I'm a woman.” I said with a nod. 

Connor stared at me for a good, long, moment, “You are making excuses.” he said, his voice deadpan.

“No, no, it's a real thing...” 

“Almira...”

“I heard it from some sailors. Women are really bad luck... really, really bad.”

“Almira, get on the ship.”

“No, I refuse.” I said stubbornly as I backed up another step, only to have Connor advance three. “I'm not going to endanger your ship with my presence.” I crossed my arms and tried to stare down the scowling man. _Maybe I should just try running..._

“Almira do not be foolish, you are speaking of simple superstition nothing more. Now get. On. The. Ship.” Connor growled at me.

“I am not stepping foot on that boarding ramp.” I snapped back. Connor glared at me, anger smoldering in his eyes, but after a moment he straightened letting his glower cool to a more neutral expression.

“Fine.” he said, in a calm, even tone. I felt my eyebrows raise in surprise, I honestly wasn't expecting him to relent, but I wasn't going to question it.

“Good.” I said in a tone that matched his, before I turned away from him, “I'm glad we could come to an agree-EEEEMENT!!!!” I squealed as Connor effortlessly picked me up, and slung me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“WHAT THE HELL CONNOR! PUT ME DOWN!!!!” I screamed at him, slapping my hands on his back as he began walking up the loading ramp. “DON'T YOU DARE! DON'T YOU DARE TAKE ME ON THAT SHIP! COOONNNNNOOOORRR!” But my words were ignored.

“ To quarters men! Haul in anchor and unfurl the sails!” I heard Connor yell over my shouts, once he stepped on to the ship. “ Take the helm Mr. Faulkner, I have my hands full at the moment.”

I heard chuckles from a few of the sailors at Connors words, causing me to growl in frustration and kick my legs a bit. It was a useless of course, Connor had one arm tightly wrapped around my waist, while the other clamped down on my legs. 

“David, could you open the hatch for me?” I heard him say to a man I couldn't see from my precarious situation.

“NO CONNOR. TAKE ME OFF THIS SHIP! NOW! DEAR GOD IN HEAVEN I SWEAR YOU WILL REGRET TAKING ME ON THIS SHIP!!! UHHGGG!” I screeched as he stepped down below the main deck, “DAMN IT THIS IS BASICALLY KIDNAPPING!” A few steps and another set of stairs took us deeper in to the _Aquila'_ s belly. 

“PUT ME DOWN CONNOR! PUT ME DOWNNnnuuph!” With a sharp turn to his left and a great shrug, Connor deposited me onto a cot, the likes of which seemed to be shoved in to a room no bigger than a closet. No sooner had I hit the cot, than I launched up from it, lunging at Connor full of rage fueled by humiliation. I came at him with my hands raised, to push him, slap him, strangle him SOMETHING. I think Connor was expecting something along those lines though, because he easily caught me by the wrists, holding them securely as we fixed each other with glares.

“Let. Me. Go.” I growled at him.

“No.”

“God dammit Connor, this isn't fair!”

“This is your training!” he snarled back, “ Training _you_ asked for. The _Aquila_ is an asset to the Assassins, so knowledge of it and its workings can only be beneficial.” I glowered at his words, giving my wrists a small jerk,

“You could have asked!” I snapped back.

“There was no time!”

“Ooh like _hell_ there wasn't! What about last night, huh? Or maybe the day before? When did you start planning this voyage, last week? You could have asked me then!” 

Connor was silent for a moment, simply glaring at me, before sighing “I did not think of it untill this morning.”

I scoffed, taking a step back and tugging my wrists out of Connor's grasp as I did so. “Figures...” I muttered glancing about the room. Spreading my arms wide, or as much as I could in the cramped space, I glared back at Connor,

“This my room?”

“Yes, I-”

“Fantastic, get out.” I spat at him. His glare only deepened,

“Almira-”

“ I said _get out_.” I took a step forward, placing a hand on his chest to push him through the entry way. He had grabbed my wrist again, but the grip wasn't as firm and he didn't try and push back as I backed him out of my closet.

“I am done talking. I'm here on your damn ship, just like you wanted, and now I want you _the hell out of my room_.” I said with a final shove, yanking my wrist out of his grasp, and wrenching the curtain closed. I stomped the two short steps back to my cot, and practically threw myself on to it, immediately cocooning myself in the thick, scratchy, gray blanket there. From the other side of the curtain I heard Connor mutter in words I didn't understand, before he himself stomped off.

_You childish, prideful little coward!_ I thought bitterly at myself as I curled up on the cot. I was angry, embarrassed, and ashamed at the entire ordeal. I was angry at Connor for his bullheadedness, embarrassed by his actions and my own, and ashamed at the heart of the matter; my fear. If only I could have admitted to it, then he might have let me stay behind. Or maybe if I could just _get over it_ , not have this silly fear of mine, then I would have gladly gotten on board. _Maybe this can be my chance to”get over it”_. I thought. I hoped so, because I was stuck here for the next three weeks, and if I didn't man up to it I was going to go hysterical in the next twenty four hours.

At least I could almost forget I was on a ship floating off to God-knows-where, when I cocooned myself in the blanket, and faced the tinny cabin wall. The only thing that reminded me that I was at sea, was the sound and smell of the ocean, misting in through the half open window. I suppose I could close it, but I wanted it open, _just in case._

I laid there wrapped in that blanket long enough to fall in to a fitful asleep, starting every time the ship gave a larger sway, or the boards creaked louder than usual. The memory-dreams didn't help ether. A few hours of this and I felt exhausted, mentally exhausted; from the worry, the fear, and from the images from my dreams. The little fear-worm from earlier had grown in to a snake, coiling around my stomach and twisting, squeezing around it, making me feel a little sick. Or maybe it was the lack of food, it was a little hard to be sure. By the time I decided to unfurl from my cocoon, the light from the window had lessened, signaling that this rather eventful day had begun its end.

“Almira?” a familiar voice called softly with a knock from the other side of the curtain, “It is dinner time.” I was quiet for a moment, waiting to see if there was more, but there wasn't. With a huff and the sound of a boot scraping on wood, I figured he turned to leave.

“Connor!” I called, shooting up from the cot and peeking out of the curtain. He was half turned away from the door when I caught him, looking at me with a cool expression on his face.

“What is it?” he asked in the same soft voice he had used earlier, as if he was trying to keep emotion from it.

“I...” I began, feeling the snake slowly tighten around my stomach, as well as heat rise to my cheeks, causing me to stare at my boots instead of him; “... need to... talk to you.”

I heard a shuffle of boots as he turned to face me fully, “What is it?” he asked. I glanced at him for a second, before looking back to my feet and shuffled to the side, pulling the curtain with me. 

“Will you... come in? Please?” 

He stood there a moment just staring at me, before nodding and stepping in to the tiny room. I closed the curtain behind him, and squeezed my way to the side of the bed, settling down onto it. He was quiet, as I sat there wringing my hands, just leaning on the side of the wall with his arms crossed.

“I... need to explain myself, I suppose.” I said, sneaking glances at him in the room's dimming light. “There's a reason I didn't want to come on the ship... I'm... afraid.” Connor blinked, giving me a slightly confused look.

“Afraid? What is there to be afraid of?”

I winced slightly, feeling a little more insecure about the ridiculousness of my fear, “I'm... afraid of boats.” I mumbled while staring at my hands, picking at my nails in an effort to distract myself from, just, _everything._ A second ticked by where the only sound was the water lapping against the ship, and a growing clamor of men's laughter and boisterous conversation with in. With a slight rustling sound Connor came over to the side of the cot, squatting down next to me, cocking his head a little as he looked at me.

“You could have said this earlier at the docks, why did you refrain?” His tone was still soft, but carrying a bit of warmth with it now. His cool expression had begun to morph in to one of pity and confusion.

I sighed, lowering my head to almost my knees, as I ran my hands through my hair.  
“Because it's stupid. I shouldn’t _be_ afraid of boats. Most people who almost drown are afraid of water, and _that's_ logical. They're usually not afraid of the thing that keeps them _out_ of the water...” I put my head in my hands, trying to avoid Connor's stare. It _was_ stupid and foolish to be afraid of boats, but I just couldn't help it.

Connor touched my arm lightly with his fingertips, gently lowering my hand away from my face. “ Something happened to make you feel this way?” I glanced at him before looking back to my hands and nodding. 

“Yeah, it's a... it's a bit of a story.” I mumbled, looking back at him. Connor just stared, patiently waiting for me to continue. Before I did, however, I scooted myself farther down the cot, gesturing to Connor that he could take a seat. I knew it would be a heck of a lot more comfortable then squatting next to it the entire story. 

“ I was eight,” I began once we both had settled on to the cot. “ My family and I were on a trip to visit some old friends of my parents. They happened to live next to a lake, with their son... Josh... Jacob...or whatever the hell his name was. Point is, they had a son, with really, _really_ poor taste in friends. This boy and his friends were all around Evelyn's age-twelve or so- and decided one day, to take her and a little row boat out onto the lake. 

“I was really bored with the adults, and the twins at the time weren’t old enough to get in to the best kind of trouble you know?-” I glanced over at Connor to see a faint smirk on his face. _Perhaps we were both wild little brats..._ I thought with my own little smirk. “-So when I saw Eve and the boys getting in the boat I demanded to go. Eve was fine with it, I mean she knew I could swim and stuff, so in theory she really wouldn't have to worry about me falling into the water or something. 

“The boys were a little less than keen. They tried arguing with Eve for a bit but in the end it didn't work, so they begrudgingly let me in the boat and rowed out to the middle of the lake, all the while telling spook stories about water monsters and what not. I think they were trying to scare me, or both Eve and I, but it really wasn't working. I don't know why, but for whatever reason the boys had it in there mind that day to try and scare us. So when telling stories didn't work they tried to scare us by rocking the boat. 

“Dumbass boys, made us angry more then anything. So they tried rocking it harder, eventually causing it to swing so much that it would take little scoops of water on board every time, and then they finally swung too far one time and took on more then a little scoop. It was obvious that the boat was going down so we all jumped out - or tried to. I was wearing a pair of sandals, and when I jumped out, one of the straps got caught on... _something._ I didn't really understand what was wrong till the boat started dragging me under, sinking me along with it. I started panicking, trying to kick my foot free, or undo the straps, anything to keep me from going to the bottom of the lake with the boat.

“But I couldn't do it. I couldn't get my foot free, and the surface of the water kept getting farther away, and all I wanted was a breath of air, but I just couldn't do it.” I sighed, rubbing my face before continuing. “Thankfully, Evelyn realized something was wrong and dove down after me, pulling my shoe off in the first try.” I peeked through some strands of hair at Connor, before looking back to hands. “She got me to shore and the boys were scolded, and everything was fine... but ever since then I just couldn't bring myself to get on to any kind of boat. I just keep thinking, what happens if my foot gets caught again? Or an arm, or a leg, or if I get caught in a room like this,” I said gesturing to the cramped living quarters, “and I can't get out? What then? I mean, I can't rely on my sister to get me out all the time...”

“Then rely on me,” Connor said softly, after I had gone quiet. “After all, is it not my duty as Captain to see to the safety of my crew?” I scoffed and shook my head,

“Connor, you don't have to coddle me, I-”

“I am not coddling you Almira, I am serious.” Connor's tone was earnest, causing me to turn my head slowly to look at him. “If the _Aquila_ starts sinking, I will find you, and make sure that you get safely off the ship. I promise.” he said, cocking his head to the side and lowering it slightly to look me in the eye. I found myself unable to keep a steady gaze back though, always flickering between his eyes and my hands.

“Connor you don't... I... I'll get through this, really.” I said, finally able to hold his gaze for longer than five seconds. “You don't need to make promises to make me feel better.” He sighed through his nose at my words, the only hint of impatience on his otherwise stoical face. 

“Almira, does my promise help you, or does it not?” I stared at him for a good, long, moment. I didn't want to admit that the thought of someone looking out for me helped. It made me think myself weak, or too needy. I opened my mouth to tell him that no, it didn't help thank you very much, and that I would just have to grow a pair and deal with the situation like a big girl should. Only I couldn't say it. The words caught in my throat, my tongue unwilling to say the lie I had crafted.

“Yes,” I found myself saying instead, “It helps.” 

A small, pleased, smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as I looked at him, a comfortable silence falling on to the conversation as we sat there. After a few moments Connor stood, facing me as he gestured towards the entrance,

“I think perhaps we should make our way to the galley, before the crew consumes the entire meal.” 

I chuckled lightly as I stood, nodding for him to lead the way,“Good idea. Besides, I'm curious to see if the rumors of ship provisions are as bad as they sound.”

He looked back at me with a raised eyebrow, “You have heard ill of the food?”

“Maggoty bread and really bad eggs. _Exceptionally_ bad eggs.” I said, thinking on the famous pirate song.

Connor scoffed, “The bread is fine, and there are no eggs.”

“No eggs?”

“No, noway to keep them fresh.”

“Huh, didn't think about that...”

 

“Captain!” one of the sailor's shouted as Connor and I walked in to the galley, “And the fox-haired girl! Was hoping you'd come out of that little den of yours!” The crew chuckled at the sailor's remark, as Connor and I took our seats across each other at the long dinner table.

“Her name is Almira,” Connor said to the sailor, before looking back to me, “Almira, allow me to introduce the crew of the _Aquila_ ,” he said gesturing to the man who first called upon us, sitting two seats away. “This is David Clutterbuck, and the man sitting next to him, is his brother Richard. They are the _Aquila_ 's gunnery officers.” I nodded in greeting to the two men, just as the curly blond sitting next to me piped up,

“And I'm Kimball!” he said, extending a hand towards me and giving my own a single firm shake. “You can call me Kim. I must say its so nice to have a pretty face to look at now. When I joined this crew they forgot to mention how ugly everyone was.” Kim stage whispered the last part to me, leaning in slightly as he gave the table a look of repulsion. 

“Whatss you talk'n 'bout boy?” a balding man with three missing teeth, and wiry gray hair from head to chin, whistled at Kimball. The aged sailor stood up, striking a pose as he swept a hand over his head, “I'm the mosst handssomesst thing to gracce thiss sship!” 

The entire table erupted in laughter, stomping their feet, smacking the table, and throwing their heads back in howling laughter. _Sure is a boisterous group,_ I thought as I giggled at the elder seaman's display. Even Connor was chuckling along with the men, shaking his head as he chewed on a biscuit.

“That one is Timothy,” Connor said after swallowing his mouthful. 

“Aye Captain, that I am!” Timothy shouted above the din as he sat back down, “But you, Missy, may call me Tim.” he said, making a showy bow over his food. I giggled again, finding the behavior of these grown men to be quite entertaining. When Tim straightened, he pointed to the man next to him, “This here's Jericho, you can call him-”

“ _Jericho_...” the the man said in a deep, slightly accented, bass voice as he looked at me with a hard stare. Jericho was a big man, probably even bigger then Connor, with skin an even darker shade of ebony then Achilles'. He was clean shaven as well, with a smooth, bald head to match, making his overall appearance rather intimidating. 

“Er, Jericho...” Tim said with far less enthusiasm than he had before, giving Jericho a raised bushy eyebrow. I was guessing that this wasn't usual behavior for the larger man. Jericho continued to give an almost proud, level stare as the man sitting on his other side leaned around him slightly to look at me.

“And I'm Barnabas, Jay's little brother.” a slightly shorter, slimmer, version of Jericho said, giving me a small apologetic look as he glanced at his elder sibling. “It's a pleasure meeting you Miss Almira.” he said with a respectful nod and a smile. 

“ Please, just Almira,” I said smiling back at him, “Or Miri, whichever you prefer.” 

“Of course Miss Miri.” Barnabas nodded again, still smiling as he went back to eating his food. Jericho had also gone back to eating his food, the hard biscuit and sticky stew demanding his full attention. I wasn't really sure what his beef was with me, but I suppose we had a few weeks to find out, _This is going to be fun_.

_______________________________________

 

I awoke slowly the next morning, just lying there on my cot, watching the daylight slowly illuminate the tiny cabin. With the light, came the growing commotion of men, starting their days work on the ship. I wasn't exactly eager to get out of bed, my anxiety never really leaving even after the talk with Connor, making sleeping a near impossible feat. But I knew I had to get up; besides, I didn't know what Connor had in store for me. Might as well try and be ready for it. 

Throwing the scratchy blanket off I sat up, reaching for the bag of stuff Connor had apparently packed for me. I hadn't looked at it since coming aboard, in fact I all but forgot about it till I went to bed after dinner last night. Pulling the bag up onto the cot I began digging through it, finding a couple of changes of clothes, a some pairs of socks, and a few wooden pieces of training equipment. _Well, someone intends to keep me busy during this trip..._ I thought as I pulled out one of the wooden swords, turning it over in my hands once, before stuffing it back in the sack and pulling out some clean clothes. I got dressed quickly, not only out of fear of someone walking in on me but also because really _cold_. Ships don't have space heaters. Once I was dressed, I tried my best to comb my hair with my fingers, braiding it loosely before I went to leave my cabin. 

“Oh, Miss Woodson, you're up!” said a familiar voice as I pulled back the curtain, revealing Robert Faulkner standing a few paces away, looking wide awake and rather perky. I yawned, stretching a little before I replied.

“Good morning Mr. Faulkner.” I said as cheerfully as I could while rubbing at the sleep in my eyes. “I'm assuming Connor sent you to wake me?”

“Aye, Miss he did.” Faulkner said as he began leading the way to the upper deck. “So how was your first night on the _Aquila_ ?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder at me. 

I groaned slightly. “Hm, rough, didn't sleep real well.”

“Shame, but its usual. It's common for first time sailors to get a little sea sick. Go and see Marco for some ginger if ya like, I hear it helps calm the sickness.” the older man said, halting for a moment to gesture towards the kitchen. I waved off the suggestion, shaking my head as I did so,

“It's not the motion of the ocean that's keeping me awake. Although it isn't helping matters.”

“Oh, what else is troubling you Miss?” 

“I... uh... I feel a bit anxious when I'm on ships.”

“Ah, afraid we'll all sink and drown?” He said, glancing back over his shoulder at me as we walked up the steps to the upper deck. 

“Yeah, something like that.” I shrugged, not really feeling like going in to detail about the subject.

“Well don't you worry Miss Woodson, the _Aquila_ 's the best there is. She cares for her crew, and her crew cares for her.” Faulkner said with a bit of conviction. I smiled at the old sailor as we emerged from the lower deck, the morning sun causing me to squint as I looked around the ship. As my eyes adjusted, I could see many of the men I met last night already at work.

“Ah, good morning Miss Miri!” Barnabas said in his lightly accented voice, as he walked passed Faulkner and I. Barnabas turned out to be extremely friendly and chatty, a stark contrast to his tight lipped, cold shouldered, brother. “Come up to watch us work?” he said, grinning at me.

“And what if I have?” I smirked back, planting my hands on my hips as I did so.

Barnabas chuckled. “Every man loves it when a beautiful woman watches him work!” He then spread his arms wide and shouted “ 'Em I right boys?” Many of the sailors whooped, and cheered in agreement with Barnabas, who never stopped grinning at me. I laughed at all the sailors, shaking my head at Barnabas as I turned to follow Faulkner up the steps. Connor was at the helm, Richard Clutterbuck, as we ascended the stairs.

“Ah, there's the little fox!” Richard said to me in greeting, glancing over to where many of the sailors were still laughing amongst themselves. “Causing trouble already I see?” he said as he looked back at me with a grin of his own.

I shrugged, cocking a half smile at the man, “Mr. Clutterbuck, I am trouble, just ask the captain.” I looked over at Connor, who simply gave me one of his small smiles (with a definite mischievous look in his eye) before saying;

“Almira definitely knows how to keep one on their toes.” 

Richard chuckled, shaking his head at Connor and I. “Well then, it should be an interesting voyage even if we don't see any action!” he said as he turned to leave, giving the lot of us a respectful nod. I leaned on the railing next to Connor, watching the younger Clutterbuck walk down the stairs to the main deck.

“So, with that comment, where the hell are we going?” I asked, cocking an eye brow at Connor.

“To deal with some raiders, Miss Woodson.” Faulkner said, glancing at me from where he stood on the other side of Connor.

“We have gotten reports of raiders gathering close to Martha's Vineyard. We are sailing out to investigate, and deal with any threat we find.” Connor explained, looking over at me as he adjusted his grip on the wheel. I stared at him for a moment before turning to face the main deck again, sighing as I did so.

“I should've guessed this was going to be unpleasant and dangerous.”

“Oh, don't be so dour Miss Woodson. The _Aquila_ has seen far worse than raiders and come out on top.” Faulkner said, glancing over at me again. I simply grunted in response.

“It will be alright Almira, everything will be fine.” Connor said quietly, leaning towards me slightly as he spoke. I sighed softly as I looked at him, resting my chin on my shoulder while I stared at him. After a moment Connor straightened, turning back to face the sea ahead.

“Did you find the practice swords I put in your bag?” 

I stood straighter as I looked over at Connor, my brow hitching up slightly as I did so. “That I did. I also found my clothes.” 

I think Connor picked up on my tone, because he slowly looked over at me with a slight frown. “Is there something wrong with your clothes?” he asked, cocking his head to the side, giving me a look of legitimate confusion. 

“No, nothing wrong with 'em. Just with how they came to be in the bag.” I said, cocking my hip to the side and placing a hand on it, as I watched Connor's face grow more confused. _He has absolutely no idea, does he?_ I shook my head, holding up a halting hand when he opened his mouth to speak. “Connor,” I said carefully, moving to stand a little closer to him, “most women consider it an invasion of privacy if you go through her drawers - especially without permission.” Connor's eyebrows rose as he came to understand what I was saying.

“Oh, Almira I... I did not mean to-”

“I know Connor, I understand, and seriously am grateful for the change of clothes... But just for future reference, let's avoid situations that may have you rifling through my... unmentionables, eh?” I said, smiling a little as he looked down at his feet and coughed, before looking back to me. 

 

“I, uh, yes. I will keep that in mind.” he said as he looked at me, seeming a little flustered. I chuckled lightly at him as I stepped back to the railing,

“ Anyway, the practice swords - I assume you have a plan for them?”

“Yes. Are you up for some sparring?”

 

_________________________________________

 

“Move your feet, Foxy!”

“ _One_ hand Miss Miri! One hand! It's not a club!”

“Come on little Fox! Hit the Wolf back!”

“Move your tail before he turns it in to a scarf!”

Almost two weeks in, and the sailors have given me a nickname: _the Fox_. It started with the Clutterbuck brothers' reference to my hair, but as the crew watched the training sessions between Connor and I, other _fox-ish_ aspects had become apparent to them. Quick, cunning, even sly were the words they used to describe my fighting tactics, along with my learning aptitude towards the ship. It was during this time that I also learned of Connor's nickname: _the Wolf_. I haven't been able to get an explanation as to why he got the name, but in all honesty I couldn't think of a better one for him. It went along with my first assessment of the man - Predator I had called him. It was in the way he moved and how he looked at things, not to mention the ferocity with which he fought.

Even in training sessions.

“ Ah!-Oof!” For the third time today Connor disarmed and swept my feet out from under me, leaving me lying on my back with the point of his wooden sword at my neck. I looked up at him, seeing strands of hair stick to his sweat dampened face, despite the fact we had both removed our coats for the session. I could hear disappointed murmurs from the crew as I looked at Connor, glaring at him in frustration. I wasn't necessarily frustrated with him, I was frustrated with the damn sword play.

“Uhg... what do I keep doing _wrong_!?” I growled as I batted his sword away, rolling up from the deck and snatching up my own.

“You're not treating it correctly, Miss Miri.” Barnabas said from his spot next to the main mast.

“He's right,” came Kim's voice from the port side stairs. “I keep telling ya not to use it as a club. It's a sword Miss, not a stick.”

“Well what is a sword, but a sharpened metal stick anyway?” I grumbled as I stared moodily down at the wooden stick in my hand.

“It is an extension of your arm,” Connor said, wiping the sweat off his brow. “Not simply a stick.”

I frowned at the thing in my hand, gripping the hilt a little tighter. _Extension of ones arm..._ I thought as I tried to take a few experimental swings with that in mind. The movements, however, felt stiff and cumbersome, even to me.

“No Almira, not like that.” Connor said with a hint of a sigh in his voice.

I groaned in exasperation, growling “Not like _what_ Connor? I just... I don't _get_ it. How is this supposed to be an extension?”

Connor slid his practice weapon into his belt as he came over to me, “Here,” he said, taking hold of my wrist and placing his other hand on my shoulder. He tried moving my arm at first but stopped, “You are too stiff. You need to relax.” I sighed, shutting my eyes and rolling my shoulders once to try and relieve the tension I hadn't really known was there. “Better,” I heard him say as I opened my eyes, seeing him move my arm again, but this time with a lot more free movement. “Now, stand like this,” he instructed, pulling on my shoulder to make me stand sideways, “To narrow your profile.” Connor then moved his hand to my own, adjusting my grip on the hilt, before moving my arm into what I assumed was an “on guard” position. 

“Think of the sword as another forearm,” he said. “You use it for blocking, parrying, and striking.” Connor did each motion slowly, not only moving my arm, but making sure I moved my body properly as well. Pushing or pulling a shoulder here, or tapping my foot with his own there. He did this once, then again, picking up the pace as he repeated the words “Block, parry, strike,” with each movement. The third time he was silent as he lightly guided my hand in the movements, and by the fourth he had let go entirely.

“Much better.” he said as I finished the last move. I looked over my shoulder at him and cocked a half-smile, feeling slightly more confident about this sword business than before. It was then, however, that I heard the giggling. Not the kind of giggling from gossiping girls, but a sound not too far from it. Looking in the direction of the noise I saw Barnabas, Timothy, Richard and another man by the name of Zacharie standing together, all staring at Connor and I with these mischievous grins. _What the...?_ I frowned slightly at the group, wondering what on earth they were up to, but my look only caused them to laugh again. 

“Hands on teacher, eh Captain?” Richard called with this impish smile on his face. … _oh you gotta be kidding me._

“You forgot to tell her how to move her hips!” yelled Barnabas, who put his hands on his own hips, wiggling them from side to side, grinning like a damn Cheshire cat the whole time. As the rest of the crew burst into laughter at Barnabas' display, I looked away from the group and glanced at a really confused looking Connor. _Oh, poor sod has no idea..._ I thought as I felt heat rise up my neck and consume my face. I hoped the exertion from training was hiding most of my blushing as I took a couple steps away from a still perplexed Connor.

“Okay Connor, I think I got it,” I said a bit lamely to him, seeing the slight disbelief in his face mixed with the confusion, as I took up a ready stance across from him. Connor gave a look to the giggling sailors before taking up the same stance across from me,

“ Now remember Almira,” he said, eyes flickering between me and the men, “you must-”

“ROCKS SIGHTED” came John's voice from the crow's nest, causing everyone to snap back to their posts and our training session to come to an early end.

“How far off?” called Connor, as he donned his coat and that damn hat again, taking up his usual position behind the helm.

“ 'Bout three klicks out sir!” the man in the crow's nest shouted back. I took up my usual position next to Connor, standing on his immediate right, straining my eyes to see the hazy outline of the coast we had been looking for for the past two days. 

“So,” I said as I pulled my own coat back on, still squinting at the rocks, “Do ya think these raiders will be floating around, or do we have to go hunting for them?”

“They'll most likely be waiting somewheres in these rocks. Lot of the vineyard's ships come through here, 'tis I fine spot for any ambushes.” Faulkner replied.

“ Then we must be ready for them.” Connor said before looking over to me, “I trust you recall your lessons with the Clutterbucks?”

When Connor and I weren't trying to beat each other senseless during our combat training sessions, I was learning all about the different aspects of seafaring, from the ropes and sails with Faulkner and Timothy, to artillery with the Clutterbuck brothers.

“Yeah, I remember.” I said with a nod, already anticipating what he was going to do.

“David!” Connor called to the elder Clutterbuck brother, “take Almira here; let her assist you with the forward guns.”

“Aye sir! Come on little Fox, I know exactly where I want ya.” David said as he waved me over. I hopped down the steps and trotted over to the man waiting by the port side swivel cannon.

“What's your plan Mr. Clutterbuck?” I chirped, stopping next to David and putting my hands on my hips. Clapping a hand onto my shoulder, he led me to the swivel cannon, positioning me to stand behind it. 

“I want you to man this swivel - no buts!” he said holding up a hand as I opened my mouth to protest. “If you can fire this cannon at enemy vessels as well as you can fire it during target practice, then we'll be done and on our way back home before these raiders realize they're in trouble. Now,” Turning to Kimball and Barnabas who flanked the cannon, he began addressing them. “You boys take care of our little Fox here, make sure her gun stays loaded, I never want to hear her stop firing ya hear me?” David gave us all a look, as the lot of us assured him with our replies of “aye, aye!” before he gave a satisfied nod and left us to attend to the other gunners. 

The Clutterbuck brothers made sure that every single cannon and sailor was ready and waiting for trouble as we approached the craggy cost. Chatter amongst the crew was at a minimum - not because the officers forbade it, it was simply the tension in the air. The fact that we had been waiting to find these raiders since we first cast off made everyone anxious to finally catch them. Kim and Barnabas were blessedly quiet as we reached the rocks, jutting out of the water here and there as the Aquila sailed gracefully through them.

“Vineyard ship!” someone yelled from the starboard side, causing most of us to twist around and look. About twenty meters in front of us and of to the right was a much smaller vessel, lightly armed from what I could see as it passed from right to left in front of us. A few of the sailors aboard the friendly vessel waved a greeting to us, so I waved back, leaning on the swivel cannon as I did so. Being in front of us, the Vineyard ship sailed into semi open water before us, and took the full brunt of the volley from three enemy ships.

“RETURN FIRE!” I heard Connors voice shout from the helm, causing the men to jump in to action. Kim and Barnabas immediately loaded my swivel, Kim ready with the ignition as I tried to aim the thing at the nearest enemy ship. I was caught with indecision at first - do I try and aim for the helmsmen? Or just try and sink the boat?

“Miri?” came Kim's questioning voice. I was taking too long, I had to make a decision now. 

“Light it!” I shouted, pointing the swivel towards the vessels belly. With a quick hiss and a loud boom, the cannonball tore into the enemy ship's belly, a gaping hole sucking in sea water faster than anything could bucket out. The hole definitely slowed the ship down, but the sailors aboard it were still firing on the Vineyard vessel when the _Aquila_ cleared the rocks, coming along broadside to the three enemy ships.

“FIRE!” roared Connor, and the _Aquila_ 's main guns shredded the vessels in a blink. But they were far from the only ones.

“GUN BOATS! GUN BOATS!” shouted David, pointing over the port side to several more vessels coming for the poor Vineyard ship.

“STARBOARD SIDE!” called Richard. I glanced behind me to see two more gun boats break off from their chase of the Vineyard ship to fire on us. A quick volley from the starboard side ended the threat before it quite begun, allowing me to simply concentrate on hitting my targets. The other enemy vessels on my side were almost out of range, making it impossible to strike with any amount of accuracy other than actually _hitting_ the target, and even that was a challenge. If I wanted to hit them at all I had to take into account how fast they were moving, how fast we were moving, how far they were, the angle we were at and-

“Light!” I shouted to Kim, hearing the same hiss and boom as the ball flew towards the ship I intended to hit. With a distant crack I knew I had hit my mark, seeing a slight plume of smoke come from the vessel.

“ _Shew_ Miss Miri,” Kim whistled as he paused in his reload to stare at the enemy vessel, “David was right 'bout you.” I looked at the man and scoffed slightly, trying to cover up the nervousness and uneasiness I felt.

“ Think that was impressive? Reload and you'll see impressive.” I said in a cocky tone, but it was forced, and to my ears sounded that way as well, but Kim and Barnabas didn't seem to notice. For the next ten minutes it went like this, reload, aim, fire, repeat. My shots we usually shortly followed by a broadside volley, ending the vessels in an explosion of metal and wood, only to have more pop out from spots in the rocks, then suddenly-

“MINES!” shouted Richard as we approached a narrower pass. As soon as the men heard his shout, they began hauling in the sails, slowing the _Aquila_ down to avoid coming up on the dangerous objects too fast.

“FIRE SWIVELS!” Connor commanded. Kim and Barnabas had already reloaded my swivel, as I looked for the devices.

“Where are they?” I asked in frustration as I tried hurriedly to look for the unknown objects.

“There Miss Miri, there!” said Barnabas as he pointed out the floating devices in the water ahead of us. I quickly swerved my cannon around and aimed at the things before we got too close for me to shoot. The pass was riddled with mines, making it extremely hazardous for not only us, but for our enemies as well. A lot of the poor sods were too close to the mines when we fired on them, causing them to explode. The mines were nerve wracking, requiring accuracy that was difficult to achieve with cannons, and if I missed... well, at least no one could yell at me.

...And when it just seemed like that hell was almost done, a new one blew in.

“FOG!” Kim yelled as wisps of it floated around the bend, before revealing its pea soup-like interior.

“No shit Sherlock...” I growled at Kim as three gun boats sailed in to the thick veil. The fog added an unwanted challenge to the already challenging art of the swivel gun. Now, not only did I have to calculate my aim, but I had to _find_ something to aim at first, and shoot it before it disappeared again. I successfully hit two before the fog started thinning, revealing one other vessel that had eluded me through the fog.

“FORT! FORT!” David yelled, just before three loud booms were heard followed by the sound of splashing. Leaning over the railing of the _Aquila_ I saw cannonballs rain down from the fort, and the _Aquila_ was right in its path.

Shouts of “Take cover!” and “Brace! Brace!” echoed around the ship as Connor tried to steer it out of the deadly path, but I knew we weren't going to make it, not completely anyway. I pushed off from the rail to try and seek shelter on the starboard side, only to glance back and see that Kimball and Barnabas had simply ducked down next to the swivel.

“No, no, you gotta _move_!” I yelled as I grabbed both men by their coats and hauled them up. 

“Miri what are you-” A crash interrupted Kim as I shoved both men towards the opposite side of the ship.

“Move! Now! Move!” I screeched at them, as another hit caused the deck to shudder under my feet, followed closely by another that hit so close it knocked me off my feet. I felt splinters of wood hit the back of my coat and legs as I laid there on the deck, hearing and feeling one last crash before we were finally clear of the cannon path. Sitting up I looked back to see the what wreckage the barrage had caused, seeing most of the railing shattered and missing and that the swivel I was manning was now nowhere in sight. An agonized moan to my left made me roll over, seeing Barnabas lying on his side, clutching at a gaping gash in his thigh.

“Barnabas!” I scrambled to stand as I scurried over to him, Kim reaching him about the same time I did. Kimball took one look at his leg and said,

“He needs to get to Arthur, can you take him?” as he put a hand on my shoulder. I nodded to the blond,

“Yeah, I can get him there.” Looking down at Barnabas I clutched his shoulder, “Think you can stand?”

“Yes Miss Miri, I can do that.” he groaned, trying to give me a positive grin but failing. I helped him to his feet, pulling his arm around my shoulder as we began to make our way towards the hatch. It was a bit awkward to support him, me being so much shorter then Barnabas, but we were able to reach the hatch before the distant bell rang, signaling another round of mortars.

“Arthur!” I shouted as Barnabas and I stumbled down the narrow hall, hearing Connor shout more orders, and feeling the ship suddenly turn to starboard. “Arthur! Arthur where are you!?” 

“Here little Missy. God girl, can you scream any louder...” the pudgy man growled as he peeked out from his work area, glancing at us before going back inside. “Come on Missy, hurry it up. Barnabas' leg isn't getting any better you know.” Arthur shouted from within the stall. I mumbled a few choice words about the man for not coming to help, hearing Barnabas chuckle slightly at my barbs. Arthur and I hadn't ever really gotten along - nothing hostile or anything, just.... well, Arthur was an ass.

“Lay him down here Missy.” the tubby man said as I struggled in to the room with Barnabas. I helped the wounded sailor on to the medical table and took a few steps back as Arthur came up to start his work on Barnabas. “Make yourself useful Missy and bring me those tweezers over there eh?” I sighed, glaring at the back of Arthur's head as I reached over and grabbed the tweezers, sticking them in front of his face. “Good girl, good girl.” he cooed, as if he were speaking to a dog. I almost growled.

“ _Fire broadside!_ ” came the order from above, echoing down to the secondary gun deck as the ship resounded with the sound of firing cannons. I rushed to the door, wanting to go back up top to see if there was anything more I could do, but Arthur stopped me,

“Whoa there Missy, come back here and give me a hand. You'll just get in the way up there anyway...” This time I did growl, but with all the noise happening he didn't seem to catch it. I walked back over to Arthur and Barnabas, glaring at the fat man, but giving Barnabas a sympathetic look. I was halfway thinking about just ignoring Arthur and going back to the upper deck, but decided it'd rather cruel of me to leave poor Barnabas down here with _him_. So I stayed, listening to every volley and suppressing every urge to punch Arthur when he called me _Missy._

“There we are sir, that should tide you over till we can get to the vineyard.” Arthur said as he finished dressing Barnabas' wound. I looked over at the man, dumping some bloody rags into a bucket as I did so, wondering what made him think that we were stopping there when a sudden up roar could be heard throughout the ship.

“Ah, we must've won.” Arthur chirped as he looked over at me, “I don't really need you here anymore Missy, you can run along up top if you like now.” He turned dismissively away from me, missing my glare of hatred. I glanced at Barnabas, who gave me a polite smile.

“Go on Miss Miri, I'm sure the Captain would like to speak to you.” he said with a slightly coy smile. I just rolled my eyes at him and turned to leave, but stopped when Barnabas spoke again. “Miss Miri, could you do me a fava and tell my brother I am all right?” I smiled at him and agreed, giving Arthur's back a silent raspberry before I ducked out of the infirmary, Barnabas' chuckles following me all the way out. 

Back on deck, it was a mess. I hadn't noticed how much debris went flying from those hits, but the deck was littered with it. Granted, I guess it could be a lot worse, but still. Spotting David kicking around some of the debris next to Jericho, I headed towards them.

“Hey Jericho,” I called as I approached them, David giving me a nod in greeting, Jericho giving me a glare. “Barnabas wanted me to tell you that he's alright, and that if you'd like to see him he's in the infirmary.” Jericho's only response was a grunt before he brushed by me, heading towards the hatch. I watched him disappear down into the hold before looking back to David, who simply shrugged at the other man's behavior. I sighed, looking around for Connor, seeing him and Mr. Faulkner at the bow next to where my Swivel used to be.

“-is the problem. What reason would the English have to threaten Maratha’s Vineyard? It has no strategic value and its people remain peaceful,” I heard Connor say as I came closer to the two men. “I fear an influence of a different kind saw to this.”

“Templars.” growled Faulkner, as I came to stand with them.

“But what they intend, I do not know.” Connor turned away from his first mate to look at me, the slightest hint of surprise showing in his eyes. “Almira,” he said, looking me up and down once “You are alright. I had heard that Barnabas had been injured, and that you had taken him to the infirmary. I presumed you might have been injured in some way as well.” I looked at Connor and smiled, shaking my head,

“No, I'm fine. Barnabas has a nasty gash in his leg though, Arthur says he's good till we reach the Vineyard.” Faulkner scoffed a little at my words, half grinning as he shook his head.

“The old salt's good at guessing. Well what do ya say Captain? The ship could use some repairs, and I doubt Barnabas will be the only one see'n Arthur.” Connor paused a moment before nodding, 

“Yes Mr. Faulkner, to the Vineyard.”

 

__________________________________________________

 

It took us the rest of that day plus one more to reach the Vineyard's port, and boy was I thankful for it. I knew I had been missing land, but I guess I hadn't realized how much till my boots hit dirt. I sort of did it for the amusement of the other sailors, but when I collapsed in to the dirt and shouted “Oh God, LAND!” I was _extremely_ grateful for the ground beneath me to not be moving. There I met an old friend of Faulkner's, Amanda Bailey, who owned the inn at Maratha’s Vineyard. Amanda quickly became my favorite person on the island, because she freely provided the one thing I had been missing since I left home; _daily baths_. Amanda seemed to understand my love for baths, saying she “knew the need to get the sea stench out of ones skin.” I had reached that point about a week ago, when the ship smelled so bad, I had basically lost my ability to smell. Thankfully it wasn't permanent.

We spent three days in port; every one of the injured sailors (there were five in total) saw the doctor, and the _Aquila_ was mostly repaired. All the wooden parts of the ship had been completely repaired, but not painted, and the bent iron haul reinforcements had only been stripped and not replaced. It was also missing the bows port side swivel, but neither Connor nor Mr. Faulkner were expecting trouble on the way back to the homestead, so they didn't see the need to get it replaced right then. By the fourth day we were able to set sail again, every able bodied sailor ready to see the sea once more - except for poor Barnabas, who was stuck in the Infirmary for the rest of the voyage back, but he would still hobble out on a pair of crutches to socialize for dinner, and sometimes come up for air. 

All in all, it was a quiet voyage back, allowing me to continue my earlier habit of star gazing at night. The upper deck was usually fairly empty at night, save for a helmsman at the wheel, and a couple of watchmen, one in the crow's nest, and the other simply sauntering around the deck. Some of the men found this entertaining, and interestingly enough they would sometimes stop and teach me a little about the constellations. 

During some of these star gazing nights I had taken to skipping dinner, slowly growing to loathe the sticky stew and dry biscuits Marco had prepared. It was nothing against him, but I was just so done with the provisions on the ship. However, it appeared someone had noticed my absence during these meals, as I heard purposeful strides come my way and stop next to me. A familiar pair of arms leaned on the unpainted railing beside me, his head turning in my direction, then to the night sky I was staring at.

“Have you been skipping meals to look for your sisters?” Connor asked me quietly, looking about the night sky. I chuckled slightly, looking down at my hands,

“Good guess...” I said softly, turning my gaze to him and cocking my head to the side. “You come to bring me back to the galley?” Connor shook his head, returning his gaze to me.

“No, I was simply wondering why you have not come yourself.” 

I scoffed slightly, glancing down at my hands again. “ The food, can't stand the slop. So I don't eat it when I'm not hungry.”

“Are you often not hungry?”

“Only on clear nights,” I said, looking back at him with a smile. I saw him faintly return it in the dim starlight, his gaze lingering on me for a moment before looking to his own hands. After a second passed I looked back at Connor,

“I found them.” I said. Connor looked back to me, cocking his head slightly to the side, “The Seven sisters I mean. Here,” I pointed to their spot in the sky, leaning closer to Connor as I did so. Connor also leaned closer, gazing down my out stretched arm as he took off his hat, his face hovering right next to my shoulder. “See 'em? They look a little bit like a tiny dipper.” 

“I think I do.” he said, as I lowered my arm and simply stared at the constellation. After a moment Connor settled back on to the rail next to me, staring at the hat in his hands. I continued to stare at the night sky, contemplating a few things as the distant stars glittered above us, until one of those thoughts found my voice.

“Do you ever hope... uhg, never mind...” I sighed, finding the thought to be far too childish and wistful.

“What?” he asked, straightening as he slightly cocked his head to one side.

I shook my head, “It's nothing, just stupid.” I mumbled as I started to turn away from him, thinking perhaps it was time to call it a night.

“Almira,” came Connor's voice as I felt a light touch on my shoulder. I glanced at the fingers that lightly rested there, watching as they fell away when I turned back around to face Connor again. I stared at him for a second before looking out to the sea again, resting one hand on the railing as I looked from water to stars.

“Ya ever hope they're watching?” 

“Who?” 

I shrugged. “The... lost I guess. People you can't see any more, 'cause they're just gone or dead.”

“Oh,” he said quietly, slowly going back to leaning on the railing. Connor was silent for a moment before speaking again, “What do you mean by watching?”

“Just, that... I hope they can see me. That they know I think about them, and that they're proud of me, of what I'm doing.” I muttered slightly as I picked at the bare railing, hearing another small “oh” come from Connor. He stared at the water for a moment before responding,

“I have often thought about what might my mother think of me now, how I hope she would be pleased with what I have become.” I stared at him as he watched the dark waves lightly lap up against the ship, wondering what it might be like to lose a _mother_ at such a young age as he did. 

“Tell me about her.” I found myself saying. 

He looked up at me in surprise, “Almira I- are you sure you wish to know? I do not know much about her myself.” he ended with a slight sagging of his shoulders.

I shrugged, “Just tell me what you do know, or tell me stories of what other people have told you about her.” Connor looked back to the waves for a moment before returning his gaze to me.

“What do you wish to know?” 

Again, I shrugged at him. “Well, start with what she looked like.”

It took Connor a while to begin, but once he did, he didn't stop till well into the night. He talked about his mother at first, before the subject slipped into friends and elders he had growing up, the two of us exchanging stories of how we were troublesome children. We ended up doing this every night for the rest of the voyage, just talking about family and friends as he joined me in my stargazing. 

I never thought I would enjoy sailing this much, never thought I'd not want a voyage to end, or the night to last just a little bit longer. But here I was, wishing for all these things as I stared up into the sky each night, gazing at my Seven Sisters and hoping that they knew I was alive and happy, even if I was so far, far away from them.


	7. chapter 6

“You are showing off...”

“Hell yeah I am,” I giggled as I tugged on the rope a little, tightening the lasso slightly. “You've been putting me on my ass since day one, 'bout time I return the favor.” I grinned down at him, catching a glance his frowning face glare up at me. 

“You are abusing your power as a teacher.” I didn't think Connor was capable of pouting, but it seemed I just witnessed him doing so. I put my hands on my hips and frowned down at him,

“And you're being a grump.” I relaxed my grip on the rope, letting it loosen enough so that he could kick it off his legs. “You did almost impale me with that rope dart, so I think I'm allowed to flaunt my knowledge a bit.” 

Connor sighed as he stood, managing to give me an annoyed yet sheepish stare. “I apologized for that.”

“I know,” I said before I shrugged at him. “But I'm still going to give you a hard time for it.” Giving him a slightly impish grin, I handed him the rope, pointing at the dummy we had set up for practice. “Now come on, you were doing better; try walking around this time to see if you can hit it while you're moving.”

“Why not a moving target instead?” Connor asked as he began swinging the rope.

“Because that would require either a calf, or another small animal for you to chase. Or maybe a person, but I'm not- ACK!” Connor was sneaky. He had been walking slowly away from me while twirling the rope, before swiftly spinning around to neatly throw the lariat around my shoulders, pinning my arms to my sides. Not missing a beat, he quickly tugged on the rope, causing me to stumble the few steps towards him, allowing him to deftly sling me over his shoulder like he had a few weeks before. 

I wanted to be mad at him for pulling such a trick, but instead of yelling, I found myself all out laughing. “Oh, I should have known!” I giggled “I deserve it and I should have known!” I kicked slightly, not really trying to get out of his grip, just mostly out of sheer merriment. “Where are we going?” I chuckled as Connor adjusted his grip on me and began walking away from our training area. 

“The house, I think I have demonstrated my finesse with your 'lasso' enough,” he said with humorous tone.

“Oh come on, there's so much more to learn! I mean, just because you got me, doesn't mean there's nothing else!” 

“ Like what? Was not the point of this lesson for you to teach me your roping technique?”

“No, the point was for you to hit the target and not me.”

“And what if you were the target?”

“Uhhgg,” I groaned dramatically. “I better not have been the target when you threw that rope dart.”

Connor sighed, “You are not going to let that go are you?” 

“Nope,” I said, hearing the sound of the front door opening to the house, causing Connor to pause.

“Connor... What are you doing?” came Achilles' puzzled voice. I stretched a bit to the side so I could try and get a peek at the older man,

“Hey Achilles!” I chirped, wiggling a foot at him since I couldn't wave with my hand. He just shook his head. “Connor's seemed to have gotten the hang of the lasso. I think he can try the rope dart again,” I continued from my precarious position. 

“Good,” I heard Achilles grumble from the doorway, “so long as he knows not to throw it at any of us again.” Connor sighed at Achilles' words, causing me to giggle slightly. “Oh and Connor,” Achilles added, sounding almost like an afterthought, “put the girl down.” I suppressed another giggle as Connor hastily set me on my feet again. Taking off the lasso that was still around my arms I faced him, grinning at his playful smile.

“If I knew teasing you would get you to loosen up a bit, I would have done it a long time ago.” I chuckled a little, as Connor's smile turned a little mischievous.

“Be careful Almira, you just might receive more trouble then you intended.”

“Is that so?” I said, matching his mischievous grin with one of my own as I started backing towards the front door to the manor. “Then show me what ya got you... you over sized wolf!” With a squeal I spun around and dashed for the door, hearing Connor hot on my heals as I leapt up the steps and reached for the doorknob. I had just enough of a lead to be able to open the door, but that was it. No sooner had it begun to swing open, than Connor's arms pinned my own to my sides again.

“You are not very quick for a Fox,” Connor said, as I halfheartedly tried to free myself from his grasp, giggling all the while.

“And for assassins, the two of you are very loud. Not to mention severely lacking in manners,” Achilles shouted at us from down the hall. “Shut the door, you're letting the cold in.” Connor let me go, shutting the door as the two of us apologized to the elder assassin. Achilles simply shook his head at us as he began hobbling into the kitchen. “Come here Almira, I'd like your assistance preparing lunch.”

Achilles had been having me help him in the kitchen since shortly before Connor and I left on the _Aquila_. He had learned of my lack of skill in the kitchen when I had successfully burned porridge one morning. I'm not talking about the bottom of the pot getting a little black, no - I mean the porridge _burned_. Like, caught fire burned. So Achilles, the brave man he is, decided he'd try and see if he could increase my aptitude in the kitchen at all.

Removing my boots and coat, I rolled up my sleeves and followed Achilles in to the kitchen, hearing Connor walk down to the basement behind me to return the rope. Achilles gestured towards a few potatoes for me to peel and cut, while he began filling the stew pot with meat and various herbs.

“It's good to have you here Almira,” Achilles said, dropping some herbs into the pot. I paused in my task to give him a puzzled look, but he simply continued selecting things to put in to the stew, ignoring me as he went on talking. “I know it was not your choice to come here, but regardless you have helped bring a sense of cheer back to this house that I never thought I'd see again.”

I blinked at the elder assassin, not really sure how to respond to the compliment he had just given me, finally just settling on a quiet little “thank you” before returning to the potatoes.

“I know it must not be easy, living with Connor and I,” Achilles added, appearing to be done with the herbs as he came over and took one of my completed potatoes, dumping it in to the pot.

“Hm, it's not so bad.” I said with a shrug, smiling over at him. “I mean, before I came here, I was living in a house with seven other men. _That_ wasn't easy.”

“Oh? Why so many?” 

“You need that many Hands when you have a ranch the size William had. I just happened to be the only girl he hired.” 

“ Hm, why was that, do you think?” 

I looked over at Achilles and chuckled, “William said it was because I was crazy.” 

With a creak of the floorboards behind me, I knew Connor had resurfaced from the basement even before he spoke. “Who thought you were crazy?” he asked, apparently missing most of the conversation.

“William during my tryout as ranch hand,” I answered, cutting up the last potato.

“Sounds like a story,” Achilles said above the sound of scraping wood on stone. Dumping the last potato in to the stew, I turned around to find Achilles seated on a stool and Connor leaning up against the arch way. I sighed and rolled my eyes, wiping my hands clean on a nearby rag as I leaned against the counter I had been working at.

“William was holding tryouts for anyone who wanted to work as a ranch hand, basically just to make sure everyone knew how to ride a horse, rope a calf, that sort of thing. Now, I know Connor my find this as a bit of a shock, but when I tried out for the bit, I could barely rope a dummy.” 

Connor cocked a half-smile at me, as he slowly shook his head. “And here I thought you were born with it in your hands.”

I made a face at him before continuing. “Anyway, one of the tasks we were supposed to do was rope a calf on horseback, then jump off and hogtie it. I must have tried, oh, three or four times to simply _catch_ the calf, before William called a stop to it. Technically I failed, but I wanted that job so badly I begged William to let me try just one more time, and if I couldn't catch and hogtie that calf then I'd walk out of there, no fuss.   
“He reluctantly agreed, letting me have one more go at it. This time when the calf took off, I spurred my horse upalong side it, and jumped on it to try and wrestle it to the ground. It took me a bit longer then I would've liked, but I did finally get that calf on the ground and was able to tie it up like William wanted me to. Cost me a dislocated finger and a bloody nose, but by golly I got that calf. I ended up not only impressing William, but a couple of the other ranch hands that happened to be around as well. Lucky for me, the other Hands were willing to help me with the lasso, and so William gave me the job.”

I ended, giving the men present a prideful little grin. The two of them were smiling, shaking their heads at my story. 

“Of all the recruits to come to my doorstep, I get the two most tenacious ones this side of the Atlantic,” Achilles grumbled, but with a hint of a smile thrown my way. I chuckled a little at Achilles, but before I could say anything more, there came a knock from the front door. The lot of us shared a slightly puzzled look, before Connor pushed off from the archway and walked towards it. Achilles and I followed, curious to see who had come on this chilly December day. 

I arrived in the hallway just in time for Connor to open the door, revealing a tall Indian – Native – man. The man appeared to be slightly more copper in skin tone then Connor, with his black hair slung over his shoulders in two long braids reaching to his waist. A thick red shirt protected him from the early winter chill that stung the air, decorated with beads and woven intricate patterns on his shoulders and forearms. The man smiled slightly when Connor opened the door, happy at the sight before him.

“Kanen'tó:kon?!” Connor said as he reached for the other man, the two of them clasping there forearms together in greeting.

“Yes my friend,” the man, _Kanen'tó:kon_ , said to Connor, smiling at him. I wondered briefly if this was the same Kanen'tó:kon from Connor's childhood stories, he most likely was; seeing as the two of them seemed rather familiar with each other. 

“What brings you here?” Connor asked as he stepped out on to the porch, his face smiling as he did so, but falling when his friends face turned serious. “Has something happened? Is the village alright?” 

“For now.”

“What do you mean?”

“Men came, claiming we had to leave. They said that the land was being sold, and that the Confederacy had consented. We sent an envoy, but they would not listen...” Kanen'tó:kon's tone sounded a little defeated at the end.

“You must refuse!” Connor exclaimed, 

“We cannot oppose the sachem, but you're right as well, we cannot give up our home.” Connor cringed away slightly from his friend, looking suddenly stressed at the situation as he leaned on one of the porch's support beams. After a moment he looked back to Kanen'tó:kon, 

“Do you have a name, someone responsible?”

“He is called William Johnson.”

“Where is Johnson now?” Connor asked, his voice dripping venom.

“He is in Boston, making preparations for the sale.”

“Sale?! This is theft!” Never before had I seen Connor this angry. A barely contained rage smoldered in his eyes at the prospect of his village losing their home. 

“Connor, take care - these men are powerful,” Achilles said as he hobbled up next to me in the doorway.

“And what would you have me do?” Connor snarled as he turned to the elder man, “I made a promise to my people.” There was silence for a moment, as the younger assassin glared at the other, before Achilles finally sighed.

“If you insist upon this course of action, seek out Sam Adams.” With barely a nod, Connor turned back to his childhood friend, extending a hand towards him. Without a word said between them, Kanen'tó:kon drew his tomahawk and handed it to Connor, who immediately turned around a slammed it in to the support pillar there. I raised my eyebrows at the action, wondering what the symbolism of it was. Achilles, though, wasn't exactly pleased.

“What have you done?” the old man grumbled, glaring between the imbedded weapon and the younger assassin.

“When my people go to war, a hatchet buried in a post to signify its start,” Connor said turning back to Achilles, “When the threat is ended, the hatchet is removed.” 

Achilles continued to glare at Connor and the hatchet, “You could have used a tree!” he growled. I couldn't help but smile at the old man, barely holding back a giggle as I shook my head at him. Looking over to Connor, I leaned back on the door frame, crossing my arms as I did so.

“You heading out right away? I could get your horse ready if ya like.” I offered, nodding towards the barn. Connor had seemed to simmer down a bit by now, the embers cooling in those cinnamon eyes of his as he looked at me.

“No,” he said, “No, I... Kanen'tó:kon, there is time enough for lunch, will you not stay?” He turned back to his friend, extending a hand towards the door. Kanen'tó:kon agreed, following Connor into the manor, while Achilles and I went back to work in the kitchen, leaving Connor and Kanen'tó:kon alone to catch up. 

As I worked, I listened in on their conversation in the next room. I wouldn't call it evesdropping, not really, not since I couldn't understand what they were saying. They were speaking to each other in their own language, a language more foreign to me then the lands across the sea - places where I had never been, only seen in pictures and movies. I really wanted to just sit with them, to watch and listen, as they enjoyed their mother tongue. But I didn't, I knew it would be rude; plus I really did want to upgrade my cooking status to 'not dangerous in the kitchen'. 

After a while the soup was ready, but food didn't stop the two men from continuing their conversation, nor the extra people in the room. I was perfectly happy to just sit there and listen to them, but Achilles was not.

“Connor,” Achilles interrupted, “ perhaps it would be best if you took Almira here with you to Boston. You could use the help, and she could use the experience, hm?” Connor and I shared a glance, him with his spoon half-raised to his mouth, and mine awkwardly sticking out the side.

“Yes, of course,” Connor said as he looked over to Achilles, giving the older man an approving nod, before looking back to me. “I uh, would you... like to come to Boston, Almira?”

“Sure, I'm always up for a bit of adventure.” I smiled, seeing Achilles shake his head, while Connor and Kanen'tó:kon chuckled. With that decided, I quickly finished my meal so I could go pack my things, not wanting to keep anyone waiting. At least this time I didn't have to wear a dress.

It was a little bit under an hour before we were ready to go, both Connor and I filling our bags with clothes and a canteen of water, then we collected our weapons and headed out the door. Kanen'tó:kon left with us, since the road took him to about halfway to his village. Connor and Kanen'tó:kon continued their chatter with each other 'til we were almost out of the homestead, before Kanen'tó:kon leaned forward to look at me,

“ Ratonhnhaké:ton, you have forgotten to introduce me to your new friend,” the man said with a smile on his face, looking back to Connor. I looked to Connor as well, cocking my head to the side as I did so. _Radoonha-what-now?_

“Oh, uh, Kanen'tó:kon, this is Almira,” Connor stuttered slightly, glancing between his friend and I. “She arrived a few months ago, seeking training as I did.”

I gave a nod to the other man. “ Hello, Kanen'doekon,” I tried to say as confidently as possible, knowing full well I had probably just butchered the man's name. He simply smiled, shaking his head at me,

“Kanen _'tó:kon_ ” he corrected. I blushed slightly, embarrassed by my mistake.

“ -tó:kon,” I repeated, “Kanen'tó:kon.” He nodded in approval once I got the pronunciation right. 

“Ratonhnhaké:ton has not been causing too much trouble for you, has he?” he asked, nodding slightly to Connor, who simply shook his head at his friend. _Is that his name?_

“She is just as much trouble as I am, if not more,” Connor said, giving me a mischievous smile.

I made a face at him. “Hey, you need a taste of your own medicine!” The lot of us shared a laugh, trading playful jibs and small talk for the rest of the walk, 'til Kanen'tó:kon had to part ways with us. The two friends said goodbye, with Connor promising to visit his village soon. 

Connor mounted his horse once Kanen'tó:kon had left; I followed suit, letting him lead the way as Birdie trotted behind him. I stared at his back for a while, a thought bouncing around in my mind as we rode on. After a few minutes I couldn't contain my curiosity any longer. 

“Connor,” I said as I had Birdie come up alongside him. He simply turned to me, a curious look on his face as he did so, waiting for me to continue. I paused, not really sure how to phrase my question. “Um, is that... well uh... Kanen'tó:kon called you, Radoon-hak-kay-dum?”

“Oh, yes... My mother gave me the name Ratonhnhaké:ton,” Connor explained, “But Achilles gave me the name 'Connor'. The people outside my village have trouble pronouncing our names. It is also easier to blend in with the colonials, if I have a name they are familiar with.”

I frowned at him, trying to comprehend the thought of basically changing one's name. It seemed weird... I was having a hard time imagining someone calling me by any other name besides my own: like, instead of someone calling me Almira, they'd called me Betty, and everyone knew me by Betty, and that's how I introduced myself to people and no one really knew my real name.

“Do you miss it?” I asked, still frowning at him. “Do you miss people calling you by your real name?”

“Yes,” he said after a moment, “ I do.”

“I can call you by it, if ya like,” I said with a shrug and a tentative smile.

He smiled back, shaking his head slightly. “You do not need to, you already know me by Connor anyway.” 

“But still, I'd like to learn it. I know I butchered it earlier... and what kind of friend would I be if I didn't learn your real name?” I cocked my head to the side as I gave him a goofy grin. Connor stared at me for a moment, giving me one of his small smiles, before pronouncing his name to me.

“Radoon-ha-gay-doon”

“Radoon-hak-gay-doon”

“No, _ha_ -gay-doon.”

“Radoon-ha-gay-doon. Ratonhnhaké:ton!” I exclaimed sitting up a little straighter on Birdie. Connor chuckled lightly at my enthusiasm, shaking his head a little as we trotted on.

“ So, _Ratonhnhaké:ton_ , when do you think we'll reach Boston?”

“ Perhaps a few hours after nightfall. Sooner if we hurry.”

“Hey, I'm following you. You wanna go faster, you best set the -” The words were barely out of my mouth, before Connor spurred his horse in to a run, leaving Birdie and I behind. “HEY!” I shouted, spurring Birdie after them.

 

__________________________________________

 

Connor and I rode into Boston shortly after dark, our poor horses rather winded after the hard ride. We arrived at the closest Inn, I volunteering to take care of our steeds, while Connor went in to procure us a couple of rooms. A stable boy ended up making it easy for me, helping unsaddle the horses and then simply taking over with their care. I grabbed our saddlebags and headed inside then, letting the stable boy do his job in peace. 

The Inn was a lively place tonight, mostly filled with what seemed like locals who wanted to drink the place dry. I spotted Connor coming down a set of steps, assuming that he just came from our newly acquired rooms. I waded through the crowded place, skirting filled tables and dodging men already unsteady on drink, over to Connor. 

“Hey,” I said as I squeezed passed the last drunken obstacle. “Horses are taken care of, did you get the rooms?”

He nodded, turning back around and leading me up the stairs to our rooms. “I can get us dinner, if you would like to take some time to clean up,” he said as we reached our rooms. 

I cocked a smile at him, handing his saddlebag over as I started to back in to my room. “Aw, you know me so well.” 

He gave me one of his small, half-smiles as he shook his head. “Meet me down stairs, when you are finished.”

“Okay!” I sang as I kicked the door closed, throwing my things on to the bed. This wasn't the exact same Inn we had stayed in last time we were in Boston, but the rooms were set up pretty much the same. A single small bed, with an equally small dresser and a quaint heating stove currently warming the room. Taking off my coat and hat, I hung them on the appropriate pegs attached to the wall, before going over to the dresser. I filled the wash pan sitting on the dresser with the water from its matching pitcher, and got to work cleaning my face and hands. 

Once I was done with that, I could move on to my hair. Fishing out the comb in my pack, I worked through the knots in my hair, wishing I still had 21st century hair conditioner to make the task easier, before braiding it loosely and flinging it over my shoulder. I examined myself in the small oval mirror attached to the dresser., looking awkward to my own eyes. The white, semi-fitted high collared shirt (complete with the slightly baggy sleeves) common of the times, made me look as if I was trying to dress up like a pirate or something. 

A growl from my stomach reminded me that it was dinner time, and I was _hungry_. So I made my way back down stairs, finding Connor sitting in the far corner, where it was quietest, in the loud and boisterous Inn. Two plates sat on the table in front of him, both loaded down with a bowl of what might have been stew (yay... more stew) and a hunk of bread. Dodging my way over to him, I plopped in the seat across from his.

“Must be a popular place...” I said, glancing around the room before digging into the food. Connor hummed in agreement, dipping a bit of his bread in his stew. It was only after a few mouthfulls that I noticed we didn't have any drinks. Not wanting to choke on my food, I volunteered to get us some beverages. Skirting tables full of drunken men, ranging from a group happily dancing in their seats, to the wild laughter of some red coats, I reached the bar. The man tending the it gave me a curious look as I walked up,

“How can I help you uh... miss?” The man said, still looking at me as if I was a penguin that had just waddled in.

I smiled at him, brushing of his stare.“ Two ales please.” _Hope Connor doesn't mind some ale._ I know I really wanted some - it had been a while since I had a proper drink. Giving me a distracted nod, the man turned away to fill the order,

“You'll have to excuse him. Not many girls like you come through here,” a thick, French accented voice said off to my side. I turned to its owner, seeing a man probably around my age, dressed in dirt stained clothes and what looked like an oversized red knit cap on his head. The man also had a dark brown colored beard, running in a line on his jaw, all the way to his chin.

“Heh, yeah. I guess we're a rare breed,” I said with a scoff, glancing back to the bar keep. The man was taking his sweet time with the ale.

“Ah, but it is good to see one such as yourself. The Colonies are filled with strong, capable men. Why not strong, capable women too, eh?” I chuckled lightly at him, nodding my head as I did so.

“Yeah, I'm inclined to agree with you on that one.”

The man smiled, extending a hand towards me. “My name is Norris.”

I returned the smile, taking his hand and shaking it. “Hello Norris, I'm Almira.”

“Ah, Almira,” he said, my name sounding fascinatingly foreign in his accent. “ An unusual name, for an unusual woman.”

I chuckled again, “I'll take that as a compliment.” I said as the barkeep _finally_ set my ale down on to the counter. Turning to take the two mugs away from him, I paused, seeing the man frozen in place as if he suddenly saw impending doom coming for him. Impending doom, that was apparently right behind me.

“Oi, look at wot we 'ave here boy's, a _Frog_. Thought I her'd somth'n croak'n!” a slurring British accent said behind me, right before a hand grabbed Norris' shoulder and hauled him off his stool. Several more of the Red coats I had seen earlier, came up and grabbed Norris as well, laughing drunkenly as they did so. They began dragging the poor man towards the back door, all the while calling Norris a frog among other things.

“HEY!” I shouted, pushing off the bar to go after them, “Let him go you -” 

“Oh ho ho! Easy therrre little missy,” another drunken soldier said as he stepped between me and his fellows as they dragged Norris outside. “I'm _much_ better company then that dog thhey just took out,” the man chuckled, suddenly pulling me close with his clumsy hands. “I can sshow you just how mucchh better, upstairs if ya like...” He chuckled more as his hands begun descending from my waist where he grabbed me, to my hips and then lower. I had one hand on his chest trying to push him away, with the other one on the bar, searching for the thing that brought me up here in the first place. I found the mug of ale by the time the man's grabby hands had found my ass, and _squeezed_. With a snarl, I smashed the mug of ale upside his head, splashing nearby patrons in ale and bits of broken pottery. 

The soldier let go and stumbled back into a familiar blue and white coat, momentarily stunned from my blow, a few scratches on his face already bleeding from the broken mug I held in my hand. Dropping it, I grabbed the man's front, not giving Connor time to do much of anything, as I hauled the redcoat back over to the bar, grabbing the back of his head and smashing it against the wood. With a groan, he slid off the bar and on to the floor at my feet, cradling his face weakly as he did so.

I faintly registered the stunned silence that fell upon the Inn after my display as well as Connor's voice, but at the moment, I didn't care, so long as _every single one_ of those soldiers got the piss beaten out of them.

Stepping over the body of the lecher, I headed towards the door the others had dragged Norris through, ignoring the stares of the gawking patrons. The single lantern that hung next to the door illuminated the scene before me: eight red coats surrounded Norris, who was held by two of them while a third beat him. The remaining soldiers seemed to almost be making a line in front of Norris, as if they all wanted a turn to beat the poor man.

With a growl, I plowed into the closest redcoat, easily knocking the drunken man off balance and in to a some of his fellows. It was almost as if most of them were Webble Wobbles and bowling pins - some of them completely fell down, while others just stumbled around a bit but stayed on their feet. I turned to one of the men still standing, kicking him in the groin. A stupid move on my part; the attack left me unbalanced, so when another red coat took a wild swing, I found myself joining them in their webble wobbling when I ducked out of the way. The first soldier I had tackled, took advantage of this and grabbed my arm, easily pulling me down to the ground. The man rolled on top of me, fighting to keep my arms down as he did so. But before I could do anything to dislodge him, I saw a blur of white and blue grab him, and throw him off me. 

Connor grabbed my hand, hauling me up on to my feet. “Nice of you to join...” I said to him, giving another soldier a solid fist to the side of his face, and a neat uppercut to put him down for the count. 

“Someone has to -” Connor grunted as he kicked a red coat in the gut, then clocked him in the jaw; “- get you out of trouble!” I scoffed at him, but didn't have time for any sort of comeback as two soldiers tried to rush me. I rolled to my left, getting out of the head-long rush of one of the soldiers, and coming up to my knees just in time to deliver a punch to the other red coat's groin. Rising to my feet as the injured soldier doubled over in pain, I kicked his feet out from under him, causing him to fall on his back with a grunt. Another swift kick to his jaw ensured that he wouldn't be getting up any time soon, allowing me to turn my attention to his comrade.

Who, to my surprise, was getting the snot beaten out of him not by Connor, or Norris, but another man. Since this newcomer seemed to be on our side I decided to defend him, tackling another red coat to the ground as he reached for the man. I quickly rolled off the soldier, jumping up to my feet and kicking his face before he could rise. Spinning back around, I saw the stranger leap up and try to tackle another redcoat, only to take the soldier's fist to his face. I myself, charged this soldier, only with more caution than the stranger had, letting me see his incoming right hook. I parried his swing, grabbing his wrist and hauling him up against the wall of the tavern, twisting his arm behind his back as I did so.

I took this moment to look around, seeing Connor help a beaten looking Norris to his feet, while about seven soldiers stayed off theirs. The helpful stranger was also getting back to his feet, wiping at his nose that was slowly trickling blood. Other than the man I currently had pinned to the wall, the fight seemed to be over. Resisting the urge to slam the soldiers face against the wall, I twisted his arm a little higher, grabbing him by the back of his jacket and hauling him over to his fellows. The rest of the redcoats were slowly getting up, and beginning to stagger off away from the Inn. I threw the soldier I had in the direction of his retreating brothers, watching him stumble a bit before turning back to me with a snarl on his face. I thought he might try attacking me again, but even through his drunken, angry haze he was able to see that was an unwise choice. Instead he simply spat at my feet before turning to one of his fellows, helping his limping comrade along.

“Thank you my friend,” Norris said to Connor, swaying slightly as he clutched his side and wiped away blood from his lip. “They had a little too much bière and didn't like the sound of my voice.” Norris glanced at me as I approached them, nodding to me as he continued. “I was only talking to the girl.”

Connor looked over at me, his expression almost neutral if not for a glint of irritation in his eyes. I frowned at him slightly, but said nothing, as Connor turned back to Norris. “Your accent is unfamiliar, - where are you from?”

“North of here, Provence de Quebec.” I glanced over at the stranger, who hung back from the conversation, and decided to let Connor continue with Norris while I went to investigate the other man. The stranger watched me approach, still dabbing at his nose with his sleeve.

“You all right?” I asked him, getting a good look at him in the light of the single lantern now. The man looked rather cute, if it wasn't for the blood dripping from his nose. Two day scruff covered his jaw, and tousled brown hair covered his head, along with bright blue eyes that smiled at me as I stopped in front of him. 

“Oh, I'll be fine miss. Not the first time I've taken a hit like that.”

“Hm, well thanks for jumping in when ya did,” I said with a shrug, “Probably would've come out a little worse for the wear if ya hadn't.” I smiled at him a little awkwardly, extending my hand as I did so. “My name's Almira by the way.”

The man chuckled lightly, taking my hand and giving it a firm shake, “Clipper. Clipper Wilkinson.” Clipper gave me a half-smile as he glanced behind me, nodding as I turned and saw the last red coat limping away. “I must say, never seen a woman put up as much fight as you did. Where'd a girl like you learn to throw a punch like that?”

I chuckled, looking back at him. “Part of it's instinct, the other part I learned from him,” I said, gesturing to Connor as his conversation with Norris seemed to be coming to an end. Norris looked over at me, nodding a farewell as he slowly walked back in to the tavern, while Connor approached glowering slightly at me. I gave him a quizzical frown as he stopped next to me, but he ignored it, instead turning to Clipper.

“ Are you hurt?” he asked. Clipper shook his head, waving off Connor's concern. 

“Nothing I can't deal with. My name's Clipper,” he said, extending his hand towards Connor. 

“Connor,” the Assassin said as he shook the other man's hand. “What compelled you to fight with us?”

“Well them red coats had been causing trouble most of the day. When I saw them haul that poor fellow out here I thought it might be high time to teach them a lesson. Suppose I wasn't the only one think'n that,” Clipper said, throwing a half-smile my way.

“I thank you, for coming in when you did,” Connor said before glancing over at me, “But I must speak with Almira.” There was a hint of anger in Connor's voice, causing Clipper's half-smile to falter and give me to get the sinking feeling that I was in the dog house.

“Yeah, sure. Good to meet you Almira, Connor,” he said, nodding at Connor and I, before going back in to the Inn. I watched Clipper go in the tavern before looking back to Connor, seeing him staring at me with disapproval. 

“You fight better in a dress.” he remarked deadpanned.

“W-what!?” _What the hell is he on about?_

“You fought better in your dress than you did just now,” Connor growled, gesturing around the empty space we were standing in. “You cannot go charging in to a fight head first, _literally_. I _know_ you know how to fight better!”

I stood there, mouth slightly ajar while I stared at him, “Are you... Are you _criticizing_ my fighting technique? Because I was fine -”

“You were not _fine_!” he barked, “When I came out here you were pinned to the ground! If I had not intervened when I had, you would be in the same condition as Norris, or worse!” 

“I would have been _fine_ ,” I hissed back, “I've gotten out of being pinned plenty of times before, I could've done it again!”

“Charging in like you had would have gotten you -” 

I had had enough, “ _I would have been FINE!_ ”I growled as I turned away from him and started stomping my way back to the Inn.

“Almira, listen to me -”

“NO, you listen to ME,” I snapped as I spun a round, matching his glare with one of my own. “I have been in plenty of brawls like this one, and I have ALWAYS walked away from them! I _know_ what I'm doing!” Turning back around I marched my way back in to the Tavern, hearing Connor hot on my heels.

“Almira you are being unreasonable!”

“I am not!” I shouted back as I wove through the murmuring crowd to the staircase leading back up to the sleeping quarters. 

“You are, and you know it. Almira will you stop and -” 

_SLAM_

I might have shaken the whole tavern when I shut my door in his face, but I was currently too angry to care. _My fighting is fine_ , I thought to myself as I heard Connor's muffled shouts as he called to me through the door. Sliding the deadbolt in place to lock the door, I went over to my bag and pulled out my sleep wear, all the while listening to Connor bang on my door. I stubbornly ignored him, changing into the loose pair of pants and oversized shirt. A few minutes after I blew out the single candle in my room and crawled under the blankets, Connor stopped trying to talk to me, leaving me in silence at last. 

I laid in the dark under the thick itchy blanket, too angry to actually sleep. Instead I lay there, glaring at the window, recalling every fight I had been in. While the memories weren't extensive, they all had one common theme: _I got out of them in one piece._ I had never been in a fight I wasn't capable of getting myself out of again. _I know what I'm doing,_ I thought, scowling at the dirty window, the grime on it illuminated by the moonlight over Boston. _I would've been fine..._ The image of the red coat pinning my arms to the ground surfaced then. He even had my hips straddled. Could I have gotten out of that? Could I? My pride roared _OF COURSE YOU COULD HAVE!_ as the realist side of my mind whispered _maybe..._

 

___________

 

Waking up the next morning was not an easy, or welcome, task. I found myself tossing and turning most of the night between my bouts of fitful sleep, learning the hard way that going to bed angry is not a good idea. Needless to say, my mood this morning was rather sour, and it seemed Connor's was too.

“Almira...” A tired growl came from across the hallway as I stepped out of my room. Looking up at him, I slung my bag over my shoulder and donned my hat.

“Oh, good morning to you too, Connor! Lovely day for more insults, isn't it?” I quipped, giving him a humorless grin before marching towards the steps.

“Almira stop! Do not be like this, I was not trying to insult you, I was trying to -”

“Tell me I can't handle myself? Is that it?? Cuz that's - unf!” I hadn't been paying attention to where I was going, walking right in to someone's solid chest as I turned a corner in the hallway.

“Whoa there, I – oh, Almira,” came a familiar voice as a pair of hands steadied me. Looking up I saw Clipper, smiling down at me despite the ugly bruise that covered his left eye and most of his nose. Glancing up, Clipper gave a friendly nod to Connor, “And Connor! I was hoping to catch you two before you left.” Clipper took a step back away from me, dropping his hands as he did so.

“Is something the matter?” Connor asked as he walked up to stand beside me.

“Well, yeah,” Clipper said with a shrug. “ After last night, I thought maybe you two might not be so keen on some of the things the red coats have been doing round here lately. See, some of them have taken to conscripting. Grab'n the young fellows from the poor families, or them without families at all. Worst part is, if they try and run, they'll kill the lads.”

I frowned at Clipper's words, “Conscripting? Why are they doing that? There isn't even a war going on, they don't need to turn to conscripting.”

“Why only the less fortunate?” Connor asked, tilting his head slightly to the side. “Why not all who qualify?” 

“And why not the entire town?” Clipper shrugged again, giving the two of us a slightly confused look. “They've been only tak'n boys from this part of town, and it's only the one group of red coats.”

I cocked an eyebrow at the man in front of me. “Let me guess: the same band of soldiers we had a tussle with last night, are the one's doing all the conscripting? That why you were here?”

Clipper gave me a slightly sheepish look as he nodded. “ That's right. I was trying to figure out why they were do'n what they were do'n, or at least maybe find their leader so this whole thing can come to an end.”

“Alone?” Connor said with a frown. Clipper again looked rather timid, as he turned to the taller man beside me.

“Well, that's why I came to you folk. The two of you seem quite capable and not exactly keen on the British, so... I was hop'n you could help.”

“You are wise to ask,” Connor said as he half-turned to me, “but I am afraid I cannot help at present.” Clipper's face fell slightly as I whipped my head around to glare at Connor anew, but the Assassin held up his hand to me, frowning as he did so. “However,” he continued, “I think Almira here will be willing to help out.” I blinked, looking from Connor to a hopeful Clipper and back again.

“I... uh, yeah. Yeah, I can help,” I said, looking at Connor a little suspiciously.

“Great!” Clipper grinned, tugging the strap of his musket a little higher on his shoulder, “Well then, I'm ready to head out whenever you are Almira.”

I shrugged, gesturing down the stairway we had all stopped at. “Lead the way.” With a nod Clipper turned and headed back down the stairs, but before I could follow, Connor grabbed my arm. 

“I still need to speak to you about your actions last night,” Connor said quietly to me. 

I glared up at him. “Connor, I am not going to stand – _hmph_ ” 

“Almira, please,” Connor sighed as he covered my mouth with his hand, muffling my retort. “Now is not the time for arguments. I do not lack faith in your fighting ability, that much I am certain. Otherwise I would not be sending you with Clipper. But last night you were far from your best.” Connor glanced down the stairwell, staring for a second before looking back at me, dropping his hand away from my mouth and letting go of my arm. “You are not a tavern brawler with your ranch hand friends any more, you are an Assassin.”

I found myself at a loss for words, and before I could try and muster up some sort of comeback for his statement, he turned away, walking down the steps past a confused looking Clipper, before walking out the door. I stood there a moment, wanting to chase after Connor and ask him exactly what he meant by that statement, but decided against it. Instead I shook my head slightly and made my way down to Clipper, who still looked confused but didn't pry.

“So, where we off to?” I asked, hitching my saddle bag a little higher on my shoulder.

“A little bit north-west of here is where those British soldiers do most of their prowling, we can start there.”

“Alrighty then, let me grab my pony, and we can be off,” I said, jerking my head towards the stables. A loud whinny echoed through the barn as I walked in, and as my eyes adjusted to the shadowed building I saw Birdie's dark chocolate head bobbing up and down, causing her dirty blond mane to flutter over her eyes and ears. “Well, good morning little bird!” I chuckled as I rubbed the mare's forehead, receiving a nudge in return. Birdie nickered impatiently as I tacked her up, pawing the ground lightly and swishing her tail.

“She's a feisty one ain’t she?” Clipper remarked, as he watched me saddle the excited mare.

“Birdie's used to going for a morning run,” I said with a smile and an affectionate pat on the horse's winter fluffy neck. “Also, her friend is gone.” I nodded to the empty stall that was next to Birdie's, where Connor's horse was stabled last night. “She's so used to leaving with him whenever Connor and I leave the manor. Him going off without her is a bit strange.” Grabbing Birdie's reins, I led her out of the stable, following Clipper as he walked beside, but slightly ahead of me. About a minute passed before he turned back to me.

“So, Connor, is he your husband?” Clipper asked, causing me to trip over my own feet and nearly fall on my face. “ NO! No, no, I, Connor... We're not... Connor and I... No.” I sputtered after I regained my footing, rubbing the back of my neck and wishing my hair was a bit messier so as to hide my burning ears.

“Oh, sorry; the two of you seem really... familiar with each other, so I thought...”

“Well no, Connor and I... We're just friends. Good friends.” I frowned suddenly, “Well, most of the time.”

Clipper raised an eyebrow at me, “Not getting along so well I take it?” I scoffed, shaking my head a little, but before I could respond, the man put a halting hand on my arm. Looking in the direction he was gazing, I saw them: the soldiers from last night. Only this time they had someone who looked like they were in charge. A red coat sat atop a sleek looking bay horse, rode in front of the group, with what I guessed was his second walking on the ground beside him. The officer on the horse wore a slightly differently cut coat then the rest, along with an odd furry hat on his head.

“Never seen that fellow before,” Clipper mumbled beside me. I raised a brow at him.

“The one on the horse, or the one waddling in the back?” I said gesturing to the end of the group, where one of the soldiers definitely looked uncomfortable with this marching business they were doing. Clipper gave me a quick frown before looking back to the group with a small shake of his head. 

“The one on the horse. Normally they don't have an officer with them. Not sure if that means they won't be recruit'n today, or they're just be'n overseen by their boss now.”

“What do you want to do then?”

“Well, uh, we follow them.”

“Okay,” I said, as I nudged Clipper slightly, urging him to walk with me as the red coats began to disappear around the bend. “But we should probably split up.”

“You think that's a good idea?” he said, glancing at me with a frown.

“ You can get closer to them than I can - they'll spot Birdie and I, if I try and get to close. If it's just you, you can at least stick to the crowed.”

“Why not tie your horse up then?” 

“Because, I'm curious about the officer, and he's on a horse, which means if he decides to take off there's no way either of us will be able to run him down. But if I have Birdie -”

“You'd be able to follow him, smart thinking.” Clipper said, giving me a quick grin.

“Thanks.” I chirped, throwing a grin his way too as we walked onto the street the soldiers were patrolling. They were heading directly towards the outskirts of town, and to what I assumed to be the poor side of the city, close to the landmark of Beacon Hill. Clipper and I split up shortly after we rounded the bend, him continuing his steady pace towards the red coats, while I slacked off, turning my own pace in to a saunter.

Thankfully there was a crowd today, likely drawn by the rather mild weather for a mid-December day, and everyone seemed to be out taking advantage of it. Shopkeepers had some of their wares sitting outside their stores, with hawkers shouting out the reasons one should buy their goods. I ignored most of them, displaying only a passing interest in a few, if only to make it look like I wasn't following the band of red coats down the road. I did, however, stop by a baker's stall, the smell of the freshly baked bread causing my empty stomach to growl so loudly I thought they might be able to hear it back at the homestead. Filling the rest of my saddle bags with bread, and a hunk of cheese I bought from another vender, I continued stalking the red coats as I munched on the newly acquired food.

It was coming up to almost an hour of following the soldier's rout; the red coats were taking a few side streets here and there, but mostly sticking to wide, crowded streets, all in all, making this trailing thing rather boring. It wasn't until we reached the outskirts of town that it got somewhat interesting. The red coats arrived at a T-intersection, pausing just a moment for the officer to give a few orders before the group headed off again, only now they had split up. The officer and two of his lackeys went left, where the city was opening up to small farms, while the remaining four went right, to a slightly more densely populated area.

Clipper paced a moment at the intersection, glancing between the two groups of soldiers before looking back to me. I simply nodded in the direction of the four foot soldiers, trying to indicate that he keep on their tail. He seemed to understand, looking over at the group then nodding, before glancing at the officer then back to me, raising his brow as if to give me a warning before turning and resuming his pursuit of the foot soldiers.

I felt a little bit of trepidation now that Clipper and I were well and truly split up. I knew these men were not the drunken sods they were last night, nor would they be anything like the poachers I fought last month. No, these men were trained soldiers with their wits about them; if I got in a tangle with these guys I would most likely end up royally screwed.

_Why did I volunteer for this?_ I thought as I followed the three soldiers on a path that was slowly decreasing in population. It was getting harder and harder to blend in with my surroundings, made even worse since I had a hunk of horseflesh with me. It eventually got to the point where if they looked back, they were _going_ to see me. Around this time I started noticing people running off, mostly kids, after the red coats passed them by. I actually saw one duck into a house, only to see a boy of about sixteen sneak out the back shortly after.

The boy headed straight for a crooked looking shack, disappearing in side for a moment, before coming back out with an old, slightly sway-backed plow horse in hand. With a glance at the red coats, the boy hopped on his horse, spurring it into a run. The kid probably would have been fine if he hadn’t tried to gallop his horse away, causing the large horse's hooves to clack loudly on the cobblestone road, announcing to everyone who could hear that he was running away from someone.

Sure enough, one of the red coats spun around at the noise, shouting to his comrades as he pointed at the retreating boy. The officer spun around and took chase, leaving behind the others, who started to follow, but realized the folly soon after and stopped. I watched this all happen from a fair distance away, barely able to make out the foot soldiers curses as they watched their leader thunder after the kid. _GO! CHASE! GO AFTER HIM!_ I thought as I fumbled a bit with the reins and stirrups in my haste, the mare making it even more difficult as she danced around in excitement, giving the boy and the officer a head start on the already large gap between us.

But I had one advantage: Birdie.

Unlike the old, worn plow horse, and the officer's pretty but not-often-worked bay, Birdie was an athlete. It was like pitting an old man, a couch potato and a professional runner against each other in a foot race. It didn't matter too much that they had such a large lead - I was going to catch them. I just hoped I was able to do it before the officer caught the boy. 

Birdie's hooves made a sharper, quicker sound then the plow horse's did, cracking against the cobblestones as we darted after the two. The officer didn't seem to notice though, too focused on acquiring his prey, shouting for him to halt “in the name of the King!”. This just seemed to make the boy panic more, pulling his aged drafter around a sharp corner and causing the poor animal to stumble slightly, allowing the officer to catch up to him even more. 

Cheating a bit, I jumped Birdie over a fence to cut across a field, coming up on them far faster than if I had stuck to the roads. A few strides later Birdie was flying again, sailing over the opposite fence and landing with a loud _CLACK_ on the street, not far from the red coat and the boy. The boy had led us into a slightly more populated street, where people had to jump out of the way to avoid getting run over, as the lot of us came barreling through. It didn't deter the officer though, spurring his horse faster to come up alongside the boy, ignoring shouts of dismay from the pedestrians who stumbled out of his path. Birdie required no urging on my part as she surged forward, coming up next to the officer's bay in a few smooth strides, before the bay's nose even got close the drafter's tail. Only then did the officer finally notice me.

It was then that I realized I didn't really have a plan.

I had to do something though. I knew that this officer was either going to force this boy in to the army, or kill him. A single, idiotic idea crossed my mind, and before I could question it I was following through with it. Letting go of Birdie's reins, I grabbed the front of the saddle, supporting myself as I swung my legs in a clumsy kick at the red coat. The kick was something between an actual kick, and me just jumping to the other horse, knocking the red coat clean off and on to the street below. The maneuver did in fact have me jumping to the bay, although be it rather clumsily. With one leg mostly over the bays back, I grabbed the saddle with one hand and clutched its mane in the other, scrambling to right myself on the still galloping horse.

Finally I was able to pull myself up, slowing the bay down as I looked behind me to see what had become of the officer. The red coat was struggling to rise, clutching his left arm to his chest, as well as favoring his left leg. He was standing a little shakily when I turned the bay around to go back after him, a look of hatred on his face mixed with pain as he glared at me. For whatever reason the bay didn't really like having me aboard, tossing his head as I urged him towards his former rider, side stepping and prancing about all the while.

After a short moment of this I lost patience and simply yanked his head around, spurring him towards the red coat. With a squeal the bay reared up, lurching forward as he did so, only to be cut short by a small, but loud, boom. The bay gave off a short, pained shriek as he stumbled to the ground, throwing me over his head and on to the cobbled road. I flipped end over end, trying to stop my momentum by throwing my hands out, only to receive skinned palms as a result. I finally slid to a stop as I flopped on to my chest, turning my head just in time to avoid getting a broken nose, but I still felt the sting as the stone road tore away some of the skin on my face.

Painfully I got up, using my elbows to rise instead of my throbbing hands, looking over at the bay as I did so. The horse was huffing erratically, lying on his side with his legs kicking meekly out, a puddle of blood slowly growing by his chest.

“That was a good horse.” a slightly pained, angry voice said in front of me. Looking back, I saw the British officer, standing with his right arm extended, wielding a still smoking flintlock in his hand. I rose fully then, frowning at the red coat as he holstered his gun, feeling the grit and sting in my chin and cheek from the fall.

“Aim better next time.” I growled at him. The man scoffed, making a show of curling his fingers around the hilt of his sword as he drew it.

“I won't have to,” he hissed, approaching me with a small limp and clutching his left arm to his chest, yet still holding his blade with confidence. _Balls, balls, balls, balls, balls..._ I tried to match his confidence, even though all I had to defend myself with was a dagger and a few days of swordsmanship training. He seemed to notice my hesitation though, smirking slightly as I pulled my own blade out, trying to ignore the pain as I gripped the hilt. Even in his debilitated state, the officer was able to put me on the defensive right away, swinging and jabbing at me; I was barely able to keep up.

A desperate idea came to mind, and I jumped away from the red coat. Diving over to the side of the road where there was dirt, I grabbed a handful of the stuff, rolling back over and throwing it at his face. The tactic had the desired effect. The officer cried out as the dirt hit his eyes, almost dropping his sword as he tried to rub the offending debris out. I took my chance then, jumping up and lunging at him, knocking his sword out of the way with my dagger as he tried to lift it up in to a proper defensive position. I ran into him full force, pushing him over onto his back, pinning his sword above his head and holding him down by his other arm.

The man cried out in pain when I pinned his arm, making him pause in his struggle briefly, before letting out an enraged growl as he freed his sword in one clean movement. Wasting no time, the officer struck me over the head with its pommel, causing my world to blur and darken. Sound became muffled as shadows danced around my eyes; the world swirled above me as I lay there _(how did I get on my back?)_ , and I struggled to make it stop. A familiar, red colored blur appeared above me, raising a long glinting object.

_SWORD!_

In an instant, fear and adrenalin sharpened the image of the man above me, from his rage filled face to the wicked gleam of his sword, as the point started to descend towards me. Gripping my dagger tightly (thank God I still had it) I batted the sword aside, the end of it crashing against the cobblestone by my shoulder, hitting it hard enough to cause tiny sparks to fly. The red coat snarled at his foiled attempt on my life, savagely kicking my dagger out of my hand. I tried to hold on to it, I really did, but between the pain of my skinned palm, and the viciousness of the officer's kick I just couldn't.

My fear seemed to reach a peak, hearing my dagger bounce off the cobblestones behind me with a sharp _ping ting_ sound, pushing thoughts just out of reach of my befuddled mind. Staring up at the officer, seeing his sword raised again, time seemed to slow to a crawl, making the whole thing surreal. _I was so stupid to think I could handle this,_ I thought as the red coats sword flashed in the December sun, _I was so wrong... Why did it take something like this to make me see that?_ I shut my eyes and turned my head away from the officer, unwilling to watch my own end.

_BANG_

The sound of a musket firing cracked through the chilly air, along with a sickeningly wet thunk and a grunt from the direction of the officer. Opening my eyes, I saw the red coat stumble back a step, staring dumbfounded down at his chest, where a hole in his coat was slowly staining his clothes a deep, dark red. The officer gave me a slightly bewildered look as he slowly sunk to the ground, letting his sword clatter onto the stone street. I sat up as the officer fell on to his back, clutching feebly at his chest, when a voice called out.

“Almira!”

I looked in the direction of the voice, seeing Clipper jogging towards me with a musket in hand. “Clipper!” I gasped as he came near, bending down to help me up as soon as he was close enough. “I don't think I can tell you how happy I am to see you,” I said a little breathlessly, as hazy shadows tried to take over my vision again when I stood, causing me to lean heavily on to his shoulder.

“You're lucky you ran to my side of town,” Clipper said as he wrapped his arm around my waist to help steady me. After a moment the darkness dimmed, only to be replaced by a painful pounding in my head. I winced as my head throbbed, but did my best to ignore the feeling as I steadied myself, gently pushing away from Clipper as I looked down at the officer's body. The quick and erratic, rise and fall of his chest told me that he was still alive, but not for long. 

I took the few, short steps to his side, sinking down to my knees by his shoulder. The man looked over at me, coughing slightly as he glared with a mixture of anger, fear, and defeat. I felt like I needed to do something for him, read him his last rights, hold his hand, try to save him, _something_. It felt wrong to simply sit beside him and watch his life fade. Yet here I was, doing exactly that. We continued to stare at each other 'til after a few ragged breaths his body went still, his unseeing eyes fixated on me as his struggle ended.

“Almira?” Clipper said as he rested a hand on my shoulder, “Almira, we shouldn't stay here.”

“Yeah,” I muttered meekly, looking from the officer to Clipper's boots beside me. His hand dropped from my shoulder to my elbow, gently pulling me to my feet, as I stared down at the lifeless body of the officer.

“Never seen a man die before?” Clipper said quietly, looking down at the officer as well.

“No,” I mumbled, “I've seen plenty of dead things - dead people too; but I've never watched someone die. Feels... wrong.”

“He was going to kill you.”

I shrugged. “Doesn't change the feeling.”

“Come on Almira, we shouldn't stay here, and you need to see a doctor.” With a gentle tug on my elbow, Clipper started pulling me away from the corpse, I give it one last glance before turning away. Pausing, however, I turned back to the officer to have a more careful look at him. Pulling my arm out of Clipper's grasp, I knelt down next to the man's body again,

“What are you doing?” Clipper asked in a slightly bewildered voice, as I reached up to the officer's neck, pulling out a half hidden charm that hung there. Well, it might have looked like a charm to anyone else, but I knew exactly what it was: a Templar cross. 

Yanking it off the fallen man's neck, I stood up, swaying slightly as I turned back to Clipper and grabbing his outstretched arm for support. “We need to find Connor.” I said as I looked around for my things.

“Why, what's wrong?” he asked, sounding more confused by the minute.

“I think I know why they were conscripting...” I said as I stumbled over to my dagger, “ Well, maybe not why, but who.”

“What? Isn't it the red coats?”

“Well yes,” I shrugged, scooped up my dagger and headed towards my hat, “but also, no. It's... complicated.”

“I'm get'n that.” he said a little sarcastically. I shrugged helplessly at him, not really knowing how to describe the Templars without spilling the beans about the whole mess of secret orders and whatnot. Picking up my hat, I began looking around for Birdie. Thankfully, the mare hadn't gone far, standing a ways off from the red coat's dead horse, pawing nervously at the ground, unwilling to come any closer to the corpse. Going over to the mare I patted her neck, cooing soft words to her to help calm her as I wiped at an odd trickle of sweat running down the side my face. Feeling a painful throb from my forehead as I did so, I jerked my hand away, seeing smeared blood cover my fingers. Looking over to Clipper, who had followed me on my quest-to-gather-things, I quirked a sheepish half smile.

“You said something about a doctor?”

 

____________________________________________

 

 

One doctor visit and about three hours later, Clipper and I were heading towards the Old South Meeting House, where it was said that Sam Adams was speaking. On our why to the doctors, Clipper filled me in on how he ended up saving me. The group of red coats he was following ended up just harassing a few people but not much else. Instead they had apparently been more interested in finding out who handed them their asses the night before. Clipper made himself scarce after that, and I thought it wise of him to do so, especially since he ended up finding me when I need him. 

In turn, I told Clipper a little bit about the Templars. I basically told him that there was a group of nutters who liked to be everyone's puppeteer, and that Connor and I really don't like being puppets. I also informed him that that was the entire reason we were here in Boston, to stop one of these would-be puppeteers.

“And you think Adams will help you?” Clipper asked as we walked towards Adams' location.

“He was the man we were told to look for,” I said as I scratched at the bandage around my head. I really didn't want the large, white, linen wraps covering my head and hands, making it painfully obvious that _Hey everyone! I got injured HERE, HERE and HERE!_

“ You shouldn't mess with the bandage too much,” Clipper said, giving me a slightly disapproving look. “I feel bad enough bringing you back to Connor the way you are; don't want to make it any worse.”

“YOU feel bad?” I scoffed. “You're the one who saved my life! If anything you should feel happy.” I chuckled as Clipper gave me a puzzled look, “You rescued a damsel in distress!” I said, dramatically holding the back of my hand up to my forehead, and leaning back on to Birdie's neck as if I was fainting. Clipper shook his head as he snickered at my act.

“You don't strike me as a 'damsel in distress' kinda girl,” he said. I smiled and nodded in agreement, adjusting my hat slightly when I straightened back up. Before I could respond with anything though, the Meeting House came in to view, along with a familiar voice.

“- one bit of madness to another with _nothing_ to show for it.” Connor bit out, as he glared at a befuddled looking Sam Adams. “Before I go any further, I would like to know _exactly_ what it is you intend.” Adams glanced between two other men that were standing with him, before returning his attention to a rather angry looking Connor. 

I stopped, hanging back a ways from the group, a little bit of trepidation at Connor's anger causing me to pause. He, of course, wasn't angry at me, but I knew if he saw me he would be, and quite frankly he had every right to be. It wasn't until after the whole fiasco with the British officer that I truly realized what Connor had been arguing about with me: I was being far too brash. Admittedly, when I started that brawl last night, I was in a rage. But shouldn't have been; like Connor told me, I wasn't a simple tavern brawler any more. I was an Assassin, and assassins think about a fight, not start one and wonder what'll happen next.

_That's what he meant,_ I thought as I watched Adams try to pacify the irritated assassin, _that's what he meant when he said I fought better in a dress. I had to think about how I was going to handle that fight._ Today though, I had been far too confident in my meager abilities, and it had almost gotten me killed.

“Almira?” Clipper's questioning voice broke through my train of thought. I looked over at him with a quizzical gaze, seeing him raise his eyebrows at me. “Are you all right?” I glanced back over to Connor, seeing him and the three other men begin to walk away.

“Yeah,” I said as I began to go after the group of men. “Yeah, I'm okay.” I gestured for Clipper to follow as I marched after Connor, calling out after him. “Connor! Hold up!” I yelled, instantly regretting it as my head felt like someone was pounding on it with a hammer. I gasped slightly from the pain, but tried not to show it too much as Connor spun around at the sound of his name. He glanced back, spotting Clipper and I almost instantly, his eyes widening slightly as he raised his hand for his fellows to wait for him. He marched towards us quickly, glaring at me with a mixture of anger and... worry?

“What _happened_?” Connor demanded as he stopped in front of me, glancing at Clipper before retuning his gaze to me, head cocked slightly to better examine the injuries on my face.

“Um...” Quite honestly, I wasn't sure where to start. However, after a moment's hesitation I reached into my coat pocket, and grasped the red coat's pendant I had in there. Taking Connor's hand, I turned it palm up, setting the Templar cross into it. “He was wearing this,” I said as I pulled my hand away, “the red coat that was leading them. The conscripters I mean.” Connor examined the polished red cross in his hand for a moment, before looking back to me as he closed his fist around it.

“Tell me what happened,” Connor said with a sigh. I gave him a sheepish look as I scratched at the bandage around my head, before I begun telling him about what had transpired that day. He was quiet throughout the tail, although more than once I saw a flash of disapproval in his eyes as I told him about Clipper and I splitting up - and then the chase.

“Things... kinda went to shit after that,” I said, looking down at my hands and rubbing the linen bandages with my fingers. “Long story short,” I sighed snapping my eyes back up to Connor, who had apparently been gazing at my hands as well; “I had a tussle with the officer, and if it wasn't for Clipper here I... I wouldn't be.” I caught a glimpse of Connor's frown as I looked away again, finding it difficult to hold his gaze. 

“The red coat had her pinned,” Clipper said, picking up the tale as I faltered, “so I shot him. He would've run her through otherwise.” I saw him shrug at Connor out of the corner of my eye, as I mustered up the courage to look back at the Assassin. Connor was staring at me with a mix of frustration and concern, somewhat catching me off guard.

“I saw the cross,” I said after a moment, gesturing to the trinket he held in his hand. “Thought it'd explain the odd conscription business, or at least the people behind it. Figured it'd be something you'd like to know about.” I fidgeted as I held Connor's gaze, twisting Birdie's reins in my hands, as he looked down at his closed fist.

With a sigh, he looked back up to me. “You were right to bring this to me, but it is something we should pursue another time.” he said with a glance over his shoulder, looking at Adams and his fellows as they stood a discreet distance away, waiting for Connor to finish his conversation with us. “I am close to ending Johnson's threat, and must see it through to its end.” 

“If there's any way I could help, I'd like to,” Clipper said as he looked from Connor to me, “ Seems the least I could do, after getting Almira here hurt.” 

“I brought this on my self.” I scoffed, shaking my head slightly at him, before looking back to Connor with a timid little shrug, “But hey, why turn away help?”

Connor simply gave me a _look_ before nodding to the rifleman beside me. “Your aid is welcome if you wish to join us. We are heading to Griffin's wharf to dump the tea, I have no doubt your assistance would be greatly appreciated if you came with us.”

“Sounds simple enough,” Clipper chirped, gesturing for Connor to lead the way. With a nod and another glance my way, Connor led us over to the three men standing on the street corner. He introduced the two strangers, a frenchman by the name of Stephane Chapheau, and an Inn keeper called William Molineux. I already knew Adams. 

“Almira,” Connor turned to me after the introductions had been taken care of. “ Molineux has been gracious enough to lend us rooms for the night, as well as a place for our horses. I can take you there so you may drop off Birdie as well as your things, and we can catch up with everyone at the docks.”

“Yeah, okay.” I said with a slightly nervous smile, knowing full well what Connor was doing. With a nod to the men around us, Connor turned and began leading me in what I assumed to be the direction of the Inn. He was quiet 'til we got about halfway down the road; only then did he turn to me, glaring with frustration as he sighed.

“I -”

“- I'm sorry.” I mumbled as I lowered my gaze, unable to meet his eyes again, instead focusing on the tarnished buttons of his coat. My apology was apparently unexpected, as his steps slowed for a moment, and his glower eased, tilting his shoulders back in to a less aggravated stance. “I didn't really understand what you were trying to tell me last night - or this morning - and just thought you were being overly critical and rude. I'm sorry it took something like _this_ -” I gestured to the bandage on my head, “-to make me see you were just trying to get me to think.”

I stopped, turning to face the quiet Assassin, mustering up the courage to look him in the eye again. “I'm...prone to rash decisions, and that usually puts me in a bind, but one I could get out of on my own most of the time. But that was back home. Things were different there, and I gotta remember that.” I shut my eyes with a sigh, before looking back to him. “It's like you said this morning: I'm not a brawler, I'm an Assassin. I need to start acting like it.”

Connor was silent for a moment as he looked down at me, but I could see the anger and worry slowly slip away from his warm, cinnamon colored eyes. “I apologize if I came off as too critical and rude, it was not my intent to insult you. I was merely worried you would get yourself injured needlessly.” I gave Connor a humorless grin as I scratched at my head wrap.

“Yeah well, confirmed that fear now eh?”

Connor bowed and shook his head at me, one of his small smiles tugging at the corner of his mouth as he did so. “I would hope,” he said looking back to me, “that you have learned your lesson, and my worry can be focused elsewhere.”

“Like when I'm in the kitchen?” I chirped, my grin now turning a little more playful. Connor rolled his eyes and chuckled lightly, causing me to join in, only to stop after the first snicker as my head throbbed with the action. Connor noticed me wince from the pain, his laughter immediately ceasing as his hand came up to hover near my elbow.

“Are you alright? The Inn is not far, you may rest there if you would like.” he said as his concerned look from earlier returned.

“Ah, no.,” I said, rubbing my temple lightly in effort to ease the throbbing. “If I rest, I'll fall asleep, and I've heard too many stories about people falling asleep with a head injury.”

“Really? What kind of stories?”

“The kind where they fall asleep and don't wake up, or do wake up but don't remember things.” I shrugged at Connor, waving off his concern as the hammer in my head stopped pounding. “Besides, I heard you were dumping tea in to the harbor tonight? Sounds like something I wouldn't want to miss.” I gave him a knowing grin as I stated walking again, seeing him just give me a disapproving frown as he followed.

“You may come as long as you stay out of trouble. You should not injure yourself any further.”

I looked over at Connor, fighting to keep a smile back, “I promise I will sit in a discreet spot, and passively watch history unfold before me.” I was grinning again by the end of my sentence. Connor simply shook his head at me, “Oh come on! It'll be quite the party!” I giggled lightly, nudging his arm with my own, 

“Almira,”

“We'll turn the harbor in to the world's biggest teacup!”

“Almira, you are being ridiculous.”

“We'll lord it over the British's heads for years to come! Never letting them forget what we did to their tea!”

“Or I could tie you to the bed, leaving your nonsense behind,” he threatened with a playful half smile. I simply laughed, ignoring the smith's hammer as it started pounding in my head again, enjoying my banter with Connor far too much to let pain interfere.


	8. Chapter 7

It's been six months since I sat in the Boston harbor, watching Connor, Clipper, Stephane and the others dump tea off the ships. Connor and I had left the next morning, he wanted me back at the manor healing, and didn't want me traveling the road alone. Over the next two weeks while I recovered, the assassin rode back and forth to Boston, assisting Clipper in his endeavor to stop the conscription that was going on. In the end, Connor invited Clipper to join the Order, along with Stephane,( whom he had helped earlier that day of the tea party).

Then the training started. Connor, of course, focused on my swordsmanship training, putting me through any situation he could think of, ranging from me wielding my own sword, to simply having my own bare hands. The best technique for me though, seemed to be duel-wielding two daggers. Personally, I still preferred either simple hand-to-hand or just one dagger. But when up against something like the sword, duel-wielding the daggers was just felt a hell of a lot more practical than trying to do it with one's bare hands.

I wasn't the only one in training anymore either. Clipper and Stephane came to the homestead often to train with Connor and I. Stephane was much like me when I first arrived. He knew how to throw a good punch, but not much else. Clipper, on the other hand, knew his way around firearms like I knew my way around horses. 

“No, no, not like that Miri, you'll hurt yourself that way,” Clipper said as he came up behind me and adjusted my grip on the musket. “Tuck it into your shoulder like this, otherwise it'll kick-back right here -” He tapped my collarbone lightly with his hand; “- and at the very best it'll leave a bruise that'll feel like you got kicked by a mule.”

Since Clipper was hands down the best of us in the field of firearms, Connor thought it wise that he take over that area of my training, and in turn I could help him work on his hand-to-hand. Currently, we were working on the musket, when just a couple weeks ago he taught me some about the flintlock - which felt a lot less clunky then this musket I currently held. While I wasn't a stranger to guns, both the flintlock and the musket were just so much more different than the guns I was used to using. I mean, you just can't use a flintlock the same as you use a Glock. You just _can't_.

“Now aim at the-”

_BANG_

I lowered the musket and I waved the smoke away from my face, staring at the stuffed manikin a few yards away.

“... target.” Clipper sighed beside me, waving at the smoke in his face as well. I cocked my hip to the side, and planted a hand on it, tilting my hat up to give Clipper a sassy smile.

“Oh good, the target,” I said in mock worry. “I thought you might've said the bunny cloud over there.” I grinned as I pointed up to the early May sky. Clipper shook his head and chuckled slightly at me, pulling my hat down over my eyes and giving me a playful shove.

“You're impossible sometimes Miri.” he said as he started walking towards the dummy. “However,” he called back as I followed him, “ I'll admit, you do have good aim.” Clipper stopped in front of the manikin, staring at the hole in its stuffed head, before looking over at me with a grin as I came to stand next to him. 

“Hm, well, thanks,” I said with a disgruntled look as I glared at the dummy's burlap face. “But I was aiming for his chest...”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Well,” Clipper clapped a hand down on my shoulder, nodding back to the spot we were standing at before. “Let's reload and try again. Know what threw your aim off so much?”

“The kick-back, I don't think I braced well enough for it,” I said with a shrug.

“Ah, that it?” He took a glance back towards the dummy with a raised eyebrow, “I've seen a lot worse.”

“Yeees, that statement makes me feel so much better.”

“Hey, for your first time with a rifle you did really well,” he said with a smile, handing me some black powder to load my musket with. “Some might even say you're a natural.”

I scoffed as I loaded the musket, shaking my head at Clipper. “I wouldn't call myself that, but sure,” I said with a grin and a shrug, handing him the powder back. This time, with the recoil in mind, I aimed the musket at the burlap dummy's chest and fired. I hit it square in the middle.

“Much better,” Clipper said, staring at the manikin's chest hole before turning back to me with a dubiously raised eyebrow. “You were trying to hit its chest this time right?”

I chuckled, nodding in affirmation to the rifle man beside me, who suddenly frowned, “Hm, pity. I was hoping you would aim for that hare-shaped cloud over there.” With an exasperated sigh, I rolled my eyes at Clipper, matching his smug look with a glare of my own, before I dropped my musket and lunged at him. With a loud OOF Clipper fell to the ground, my attack apparently unexpected. 

Shortly after Clipper started hand-to-hand training, I began my 'surprise attacks' on him. I used the excuse that it would better prepare him for those times he was ambushed, but we both knew I did it mainly out of play. Although, the first time I jumped him was sort of a mistake. Clipper and I had begun forming a friendship rather quickly, and it wasn't until some time had passed that I realized why: Clipper reminded me so much of Skyler, one of my best friends back at the ranch. 

“You _trickster_!” Clipper grunted as he shoved me off, kicking my feet out from under me as I stumbled back. I sat up just in time to see him lunge at me, (he really should've known better by now.) As he tried tackling me, I braced my feet against his abdomen, and grabbed his hands for leverage, using his momentum to launch him over my head and onto his back. The maneuver allowed me to roll with him, landing on top of him again and pinning his arms down.

“Nice try there Simba,” I said, grinning down at Clipper.

“What?”

“Never mind,” I sighed, internally grieving over the fact that all my reference jokes will forever go unappreciated. Redirecting my attention to Clipper, I quirked an eyebrow at him. “So, do you know where you went wrong?”

Clipper groaned. “I tried attacking you.”

“Perhaps,” came a smooth and familiar voice. “But you have fallen for that trick before,” Connor said, stopping next to us as he addressed Clipper. “By my count, this has happened three times in the past week. Have you not learned her trick by now?”

“Seriously, it's becoming boring.” I grinned down at Clipper, receiving a frown in return before I hopped off of him.

“You need to avoid her feet,” Connor said as he hauled Clipper up. “Here, let me show you.” Connor gestured for me to lie down on my back again, taking a few steps back as I did so. “ Almira needs to get her feet into position, so you have some warning that she is planning this maneuver. When she does this, you merely -” Connor lunged at me, knocking my feet away from his abdomen and swiftly pinning them to his side. “ - use it to your advantage.” Connor demonstrated this by dragging me gently to the side of the practice area, making little S shapes in the dirt as he did so. 

I laughed at Connor's actions, finding his playfulness a bit odd, but not unwelcome. I saw him cock a small smile at me before letting my feet go, allowing me to stand and brush myself off. “Of course, you might not want to turn your opponent in to a giant writing stick, not exactly a winning maneuver,” I chuckled, shrugging at Clipper before turning to Connor. “So, what brings you here? Thought you were helping Warren.” 

Since the tea party, we not only gained a few more people into the brotherhood, but also more people onto the homestead as well. Norris, the man Connor and I saved from a complete beating all those months ago, settled down here, opening up the mine in these parts. Soon after, Connor came across Warren and Prudence, whose small, meager farm had been destroyed by loyalists when they refused to turn over their entire yield. Connor brought them here, where they'd been able to start a new, larger farm this spring. Not to mention that just a few weeks ago, Oliver and Corrine, a couple of Inn keepers, were forced out when their place had been taken over by British troops. Construction on their new Inn began three days ago.

“Warren's fence did not require as much attention as he first thought, and insisted that he could handle the rest himself. Prudence, however, wanted me to pass on a message.” Connor said as he gave me the barest hints of a knowing smile.

“oh? What was it?” I said, narrowing my eyes in suspicion at the man.

“The lambs are here.”

I squeaked and jumped for joy, grabbing Connor by his arm and fervently gesturing for Clipper to follow, as I started hauling Connor back in the direction he had come from. “Come! We must see the cute!”

I heard Clipper laugh and Connor faintly chuckle, “Almira,” the man whom I was dragging said as he lightly jogged beside me, “you do not have to rush! They are not leaving.”

“I _know_ ,” I groaned dramatically, letting go of his arm to spin around and face him, hopping back wards as I spoke, “but I have a mighty need to see them now!”with a grin I spun back around and jogged lightly to the road, where I slowed down somewhat so the boys could catch up.

“Have you never seen lambs before, Almira?” Clipper said as he came up beside me.

“I've seen lots of lambs before. And baby goats, foals, calves... you name it, I've probably seen it's baby form and helped raise it.” I said with a prideful grin at the rifleman. I heard Connor come up on my other side and I flashed a grin at him before turning back ahead and sighing slightly, “I just sort of miss playing the midwife to all the critters. Seeing them wobble around and fall over as they try and learn how to walk, and hearing their squeaky little voices. It's adorable.”

“Ah, so... why are _we_ going?” Clipper said with a raised brow at me, gesturing between him self and Connor.

I rolled my eyes, looping my arms through both of there's, Because, everyone needs a dose of adorable once in a while, and I do believe both of you gentlemen are in need of one.”

out of the corner of my eye I saw Connor shake his head, but felt his arm tighten around my own ever so slightly, while Clipper simply chuckled and allowed himself to be dragged towards Warren and Prudence's farm. 

It wasn't a long ways to their farm, and with in about fifteen minutes time, the three of us arrived at Warren and Prudence's place. 

“Almira!” Prudence called to me as we came around the bend and up towards there farm, “I thought you might come quickly!” the woman giggled, her bright smile a stark contrast to her dark skin.

“Hello Prudence!” I grinned as I jogged up to her, “where are the little buggers?”

The woman laughed and gestured for us to follow her, leading us over to the pen where their ewes and lambs were. Warren was there, along with Miriam who was currently holding one of the new lambs. The huntress saw me, adjusting her hold on the lamb to wave at me,

“Hello there Almira! Warren said you might show up.” 

“Of course! I couldn't miss the chance to see these little guys,” I said as I walked up to her, scratching the head of the little lamb in her arms. 

The huntress chuckled lightly at me, rubbing the lamb's neck before passing the little creature off to me. I gently hugged the little lamb close, perching myself on the fence as Connor came up to me, staring down at the gangly, wool-covered critter in my arms. Clipper walked over to Miriam, who had picked up another lamb, and was making small talk with her as they fawned over the lamb in her arms. Connor on the other hand was quiet, simply smiling down at the lamb I had as he gently scratched it's shoulder. The little lamb turned it's golden eyes to Connor, resting its chin on the back of his hand as it looked up to him and gave a tiny little bleat.

I chuckled, “I think he likes you,” I said smiling up at Connor. 

The man smiled back, continuing to pet the small creature as it made tiny little noises at him. “I think perhaps, it prefers you and is simply asking me to stop.”

I almost rolled my eyes at him as he switched from scratching it's shoulders to rubbing under it's chin with his index finger. The little lambs eyes slowly shut as he gently stroked under its chin, and I giggled softly, “see, he likes you just fine. He was just telling you you were scratching the wrong spot.”

Connor joined me in my light laughter, smiling at me as the little lamb in my arms as it slowly seemed to fall asleep. 

“Oh, Almira,” came Miriam's voice suddenly, “I meant to ask you a favor when I saw you. Would you mind hunting with me? I'm a bit behind on this weeks haul, and help would be appreciated.”

I shrugged, “sure,” I said, glancing between Connor and Clipper, “so long as these two don't mind my absence too much.”

Clipper and Connor both shook their heads, “hunting with Miriam is good for you,” Connor said, “you hone your skills better this way.”

I chuckled at him, “because every time I mess up, she yells at me.” I said pointing to the huntress. 

“It's effective!” Miriam laughed.

A few minutes later, Miriam and I were on our way to one of her hunting blinds, after the two of us made a stop at the manor so I could pick up my bow and grab a quick change of clothes. The shirt I changed in to, was Connor's borrowed leather tunic. The garment was, of course, about four sizes to big, but it was the perfect color for blending in to the forest.

“So, what d'you have in mind for today?” I said as we came up under Miriam's hunting blind.

“Deer and a few hares. I've spotted a herd heading west from here this morning, and I know there are a few burrows slightly north of them. We could split up - I can go after the deer, and you can get the hares,” Miriam said with a raised brow, nodding off in the general direction of the critters. I agreed to her plan, heading off in the direction of the burrows. I knew of the rabbit holes she spoke of, having hunted there before, so I had little trouble finding the area she wanted me to go to.

The other thing Connor thought was good for me during these hunting trips, was the practice in tree climbing. While was I no stranger to it, I was, of course, nowhere near the skill level of Connor. That man, for as large as he was, could scamper through the trees, jumping from one to another like a damn monkey, something I had the confidence for in only the densest of forests. 

Taking to the trees though, did give me an advantage while hunting though. So when I drew near the burrows, finding signs of my pray in the shortly-nibbled grass and round little droppings, I began climbing. Fortunately, there were plenty of tall, strong, oaks and maples in this little patch of the woods, giving me the courage to channel my inner squirrel and hop from one to another. I finally found what I thought to be the perfect roost, settling down in to the branches, waiting for the game to wander too close. It took a while, perhaps about two hours, before I was able to snag enough hares for Miriam's haul. I decided to try and catch up with her, so binding the carcasses together, I threw them over my shoulder and headed in her direction. I thought the best way of finding the huntress was tracking the very deer she was, trying to move quietly, but quickly through the forest as I followed the trail. However, finding Miriam ended up being easier than I originally thought; a musket shot signaled her location several yards ahead of me. 

I hurried towards the sound, taking less care about how quiet I was. I knew Miriam would have gotten her target in the shot, so I didn't have to worry about scaring the deer away.

“Miriam!” I called as I got closer to where her shot had come from.

“Over this way!” I followed the sound of Miriam's voice, arriving at a tiny clearing in the trees, where the huntress was currently inspecting her kill.

“He's large,” I said as I leaned up against a tree, staring down at the buck she felled.

“ That he is,” she agreed as she knelt next to it. “ I was lucky that they finally stopped when they did, otherwise I would have never been able to get a line on him. they've been rather flighty all afternoon. How did you fare?”

“Pretty well,” I said as I slung the hares off my shoulder, accidentally knocking my bow off as well. With a sigh, I bent down to pick my weapon back up.

_THWACK_

The spot where my head had just been suddenly exploded in to splinters, as the echo of a musket shot rang through the forest. I dropped to the ground, letting go of the rabbits I held in my hand in favor of snagging up my bow. I glanced up towards Miriam, wanting to shout for her to take cover but she was already scrambling towards a tree as the second shot echoed through the woods. I quickly followed suit, crawling around the tree I had been leaning on moments before, feeling as if my heart was trying to beat its way out of my chest. _Who's shooting at us!?!_

“Oooh! Did we catch us some poachers now lads? I hear bad things happen to poachers 'round here!”

“Not so tough without yer damn horse now, eh girlie!” 

Miriam and I shared bewildered, frightened glances as our assailants shouted taunts at us. I leaned around the tree a bit to try and catch sight of them, seeing two men tromp their way towards us, reloading their muskets as they continued shouting insults. I caught the eye of one of them, getting a good look at him before I ducked back behind the tree as he raised his musket for another shot.

 _The poachers. It's the poachers._ The two men now shooting at us, were the same ones in the group of poachers I chased out of the homestead over seven months ago. I honestly didn't think they'd come back. _Okay Almira, think! You bested them once, you can do it again!_ I looked up in the surrounding trees to see if perhaps I could get a good vantage point in one of them. I spotted one, but was unsure if I would be able to reach it without getting shot down. _Perhaps Miriam can give me some cover fire..._ I glanced over to the huntress to try and relay my idea to her, just in time to see a third poacher jump out of the brush at her, knife in hand.

“MIRIAM!” I screamed at her. Thankfully, Miriam seemed somewhat ready for him, her own hunting knife in hand; as she dodged the man's wild swing before imbedding her blade into his shoulder. Unfortunately, Miriam's old, warn hunting blade was far past its prime, and as the poacher jerked away from her blow, the blade snapped, leaving Miriam with only the hilt of her knife. The poacher, now filled with pain and rage, came at her again with his own knife raised - only now she had no defense of her own.

I didn't have enough time to rush over there and defend her, nor was I certain that I wouldn't be shot by the other two still out there. So I did the only other thing I could; I drew an arrow, and fired at the poacher. The man jerked and awkwardly fell down in front of Miriam, choking and clawing feebly at the arrow lodged in his throat. Before he had completely fallen to the ground, one of the other poachers jumped around my tree, raising his musket in line with my face. Instinct honed by training caused me to throw myself backwards, kicking up at his rifle barrel and knocking it clear out of the way as he fired.

The maneuver knocked the wind out of me, but still left me functioning, able to roll out of the way as the man tried to stomp on my chest. I hopped up, pulling out an arrow and stabbing the poacher in his own chest with it and kicking him in the side. I turned towards the last remaining poacher, who was rushing towards Miriam, musket raised. Wasting no time, I drew a third arrow, sending it flying into the man's chest, making his shot fly wide. I turned back to the man I stabbed, knowing the arrow hadn't gone deep enough to seriously wound, to find him lunging at me with his knife drawn.

I dropped my bow as he came at me, grabbing his wrist and twisting, using his momentum to help twist his arm as well, causing him to let go of his knife as he shouted in pain. I quickly grabbed his weapon before he spun back around towards me, pausing only a moment to see I had his knife before lunging. I easily deflected his swing, batting it to the side as I stepped in close to sink his own knife into his chest. The poacher let out a surprised grunt, his eyes going wide as he looked at me in shock, before slowly sinking to the ground.

A few heart beats went by as the adrenalin in my veins cooled, leaving a chill along my spine as I stared down at the fresh corpse. “Almira!” Miriam called as I turned around, trying to shake the rising chill from my body that had nothing to do with the weather. “Almira, are you alright?” 

I looked at the huntress for a moment before I found my voice. “Yeah, I... I'm okay... What about you, did you get hurt?”

“Not a scratch. You were fast enough to see that that didn't happen,” she said, giving me a tiny reassuring smile. It really didn't help. I looked away and to the other corpses I had made, thinking it would be best if they were laid to rest as soon as possible. It really was the least I could do for them. 

“They, uh... They should be buried,” I said, glancing at her as I shuffled my feet, “or something. We can't just leave 'em out here to rot.” 

“That's what they would have done with us, though: leave us out here. Or worse.” Miriam glared down at the still form of the poacher next to me.

I frowned at her before looking down at the same corpse. “But we're not them, why act like them? Best to treat them how you would want to be treated if you were in their shoes. I know I'd hope someone would have the decency to bury me if I died out in the middle of nowhere.”

The huntress sighed, “Yes, I know. I just feel like they don't deserve it.”

I didn't know how to respond to that. Instead I went around and gathered my bow and hares. “Come on, let get this game back to your place,” I said as I turned back to her. “I can get Connor and Clipper out here to help bury them.” I took one last look at the poacher, hoisting the rabbits over my shoulder again. “The sooner they're in the ground the better.”

 

_______________________________________________________________ 

 

“Connor? Clipper?” I called in o the manor, having dropped off the hares at Miriam's camp. The chill from earlier had left me now, leaving behind some sort of twisting thing in my gut, not really making me queasy, but it did leave a sour taste in my mouth. “Connor, Clipper? You around?”

“Connor's gone.” Achilles hobbled out of the dining room, a disappointed look on his face as he spoke. “Johnson returned to Connor's village with all the money he needed to purchase its land. He has gone to stop him, as he should have done in the first place.” Achilles grumbled slightly and shook his head before sighing and turning back to me. “Anyway, what did you need him for?” 

I blinked at Achilles, a little shocked at the news. Connor had seemed so sure that destroying the tea would be the end of Johnson's threat. But it seemed we had both been wrong - Connor with Johnson, and I with the poachers. I fidgeted, looking away from the elder assassin, remembering his words the day I chased the poachers off. He had warned me of something like this.“I... uh, Miriam and I... well, we were hunting and... we were ambushed. By poachers. The ones I ran off a while back... and I uh...” I nervously tucked some of my hair behind my ear, and crossed my arms, unable to hold eye contact with Achilles. “I killed them. Before they could kill us. One almost got to Miriam, but I was able to get him before he did much of anything. She's fine.”

“And how are you?” Achilles softly asked after a moment, tilting his head to the side a little bit as I looked at him.

“Oh, I'm ah... fine. I'm fine.”

He sighed, seemingly dissatisfied with my reply, frowning slightly at me. “I see.” he said, almost as if to himself, before turning away and gesturing for me to follow. “Come with me child.” I blinked at him, feeling rather confused by his reaction. I really don't know what I was expecting; I thought he might give me an “I told you so” speech, or something close to it, but apparently I was wrong. Achilles led me into the kitchen, indicating for me to have a seat on one of the stools in there. I frowned at the elder assassin, watching him set the kettle over the fire before hobbling over to a cabinet, pulling down a couple of tea cups as I waited for him to still jump into a speech about my failings.

Achilles pulled out a teapot, setting it next to the cups before he took a seat across from me, giving me a sort of knowing look. “ You regret killing them?” he asked in a soft tone.

I blinked, “I um, well... yeah. I mean, no they... Yes they were trying to kill Miriam and I, but...” I sighed, dropping my eyes to the floor. “I just... They were people Achilles. It feels wrong... but I know... I know they meant to kill me. Hell, they tried to kill me the first time, but I just, let them limp away. Hoping they'd learned their lesson.”

“Those willing to commit such atrocities are rarely worth saving,” Achilles said, folding his hands over his cane. 

“That might be what worries me the most about this Achilles,” I chuckled without humor, frowning at the elder assassin across from me. “I'm the one that killed them! I'm the one that committed the _atrocity_. Doesn’t that make me just as bad as _them_?!”

“No,” he said calmingly, “because you have remorse. You will only kill someone if you have no other choice, and even then, you regret it. Your regret shows you have a conscience, and you need that. You would be a poor assassin if you didn't.”

His words hardly helped. “And what happens if I kill so many people that I lose it? I stop feeling guilty and start not caring?”

He sighed, “Take care to ensure that doesn't happen, but don't let that fear hold you back from taking out a target either.” Achilles paused as the kettle screamed, taking it off the fire and filling the teapot up, before bringing the set over to where our stools were. “Some men, for the good of all, must die. It is the only way to ensure that the threat they pose is ended.”

I wasn't sure what else I could add to that, still mulling over my own actions in the woods. I regretted killing them, yes, but in the back of my mind, I knew if I could go back in time I wouldn't change anything. “I should go find Clipper. I need help burying them,” I announced as I stood up from my stool, only to have Achilles wave me back.

“He's out running through some drills Connor left with him, I'm sure he'll be done soon enough, but in the meantime sit down and have some tea. I can tell you still have much on your mind.”

I sighed, turning back to the old assassin, “ Achilles, I really should go bury them now-”

“The thing about the dead, Almira, is that they don't move.” He deadpanned as he poured out two cups of tea. “There is still plenty of light left in the day for you to put them in the ground before sunset. However, I would like to make sure you are straightened out before then as well.”

“Achilles, I'm fine really I just -”

“Oh, hog wash.” he scoffed with a wave of his hand. “Don't try and fool me girl. You think you're the first protégé of mine to have this kind of issue? If you don't talk about it now, you might end up getting you and yours killed someday.” His words were a bit flippant, but I could see something flicker in his eyes. I stood there a moment, staring at Achilles. I often forgot that Connor and I were not his first students, that the two of us were most likely learning off of a thousand past mistakes from Achilles.

Of his losses and regrets.

So instead of simply ignoring the older man and going off to find Clipper myself, I sat back down on my stool, and started talking.


	9. Chapter 8

It's been almost a year since Connor assassinated William Johnson. Ever since then, things have been heating up; not only in the brotherhood, but in the war effort as well. While the war hasn't technically started, the people sure have been getting ready for one, and the British are not happy about that. Major John Pitcairn was given orders to seek and destroy any patriot weapons and supplies he could find. 

He was also a Templar, and that, of course, made him next on Connor's assassination list.

Unfortunately for Connor, it's been almost nigh impossible to find the man, although not for lack of trying. Pitcairn is a high ranking Major in the British army, so even when Connor did manage to get the man's location, it was always some place out of reach. However, in this tireless search of his, Connor has been helping Clipper and Stephan gain a firmer hold in their districts of Boston. Boston ended up being the main location to gain information on Pitcairn, so Connor made frequent visits to the city. I went along most of the time (rarely ever letting Connor leave without me), helping the two recruits when I did, and we even ended up welcoming one more assassin in to our midst; a man named Duncan Little. 

Duncan wasn't the only new face around here: we also gained a doctor by the name of Lyle White. It was at Warren and Prudence's suggestion (Prudence being pregnant with her first child, and there being no doctor for a good ways,) that Connor and I find the man. However, we didn't expect to find him piss drunk in the middle of the Boston street getting the snot beat out of him. I could tell that Connor was a bit skeptical about bringing the man back to the homestead, but as soon as Doctor White heard that Prudence was pregnant, he wobbled to his feet and announced that “Perhaps getting out of Boston is exactly what I need,” and followed us back. Thankfully, he's been sober since he arrived, and has proven himself a capable physician a few times over. 

 

“I'm so glad you and Connor were able to bring the Doctor here,” Prudence said as she slid a lump of bread dough in to the stone oven. I had come for a visit, just returning yesterday from another trip to Boston with Connor, and wanted to see how she was faring.

“You say that every time you see me, Prudence.” I chuckled.

“Because I am so very grateful! I don't know what Warren and I would have done if you could not have found Doctor White.”

I shrugged in response, not really knowing what to say as she came over to the small tea table where I was and sat down. “I'm sure we would've figured something out,” I said after a moment.

She hummed. “I don't doubt it. Everyone here is so kind, and you and Connor work so hard to see that we are safe and have all that we need.” Prudence shook her head gently at me, “The two of you   
go above and beyond.”

“ We like to make sure the best people in the world are taken care of.”

“Oh Almira, you are too kind.” she giggled, taking a sip of tea before something over my shoulder caught her eye and she waved. “Good day Connor!” 

I twisted around in my seat to see the assassin come striding towards us, giving a friendly wave. He actually wasn't wearing his assassin robes today, enjoying the nice April weather by wearing a simple brown tunic, with brown trousers and his usual leather chaps.

“Good day Prudence, hello Almira.” 

“Hey you.”

He gave a small smile to my greeting before turning to Prudence. “I have a question, if I may?”

“Of course! How can I help?”

“Norris is trying to... court a... woman.” he said as he shuffled slightly, clearly out of his element. “What do you... women like? In terms of gifts.” 

Prudence and I shared a look, and I quickly took a drink of my tea to hide the grin that was forming. Prudence, however, didn't really try to hid her mirth. “Oh? Who is it Norris fancies?” 

“Um, best not say for now.” he said apologetically.

“Hmm, alright,” she said, sounding a little disappointed but shrugging it off as she mulled over Connor's original question. “Well, a bunch of wild flowers are always nice, wouldn't you agree?” Prudence turned to me, raising her brow expectantly.

“Um, yeah. Flowers are really sweet first time gift.” Connor simply “hmm”ed at my statement, seemingly unconvinced. “actually,” I added, setting my tea down as I stood, “I know where some of the best flowers are, want me to take you?”

“If you would like; I would not want to disturb your visit with Prudence however, – ”

“oh, no, not at all!” The other woman stood, waving a hand dismissively, “Almira was getting ready to leave anyway.”

I raised a brow at her, only to receive a sly smile in return. “Yeah...” _I just got here._ I turned back to Connor and gave him an awkward smile. “What a coincidence...”

“Indeed...” I think Connor was picking up on the sudden tension, but wasn't sure what to do about it. 

“Yup,” I quipped as I rocked back on my heels, glancing between Connor and a still smiling Prudence, before hopping off towards the road. “Well I suppose we better get a move on. See ya 'round Prudence!” I shouted over my shoulder to her, hearing her giggle as Connor jogged after me.

 

It was about a twenty minute walk to the grove I had found purely by accident the year prior, and even before it came into sight, I could smell them.

“Here we are,” I said, stopping in front of the fragrant tree-like bushes, before looking over to Connor, whose brows were slightly raised as he sight of the little purple flowers. I smiled at his reaction, before reaching up to snap a bundle of the flowers off, “ Lilacs; best flowers in the world. But I maybe a little bias...”

“What makes you say that?” he asked as he carefully took the handful I offered to him.

“they're my favorite... A nice little slice of home.”

“They remind you of home?” he said, accepting another bundle before coming over to the bush to gather some himself.

“Yeah. My parents had a couple trees by our house while I was growing up, my sister's and I would make flower crowns out of them for our birthday.”

Connor paused in is task, cocking his head at me, “you and your sisters share the same birthday?”

“No,” I giggled, “ we just celebrate all of our birthday's one day in the spring. It's a tradition that we started when Evelyn moved away. We all wanted to still celebrate each others birthday's, but with her so far away, it was difficult. So, we decided on one day kinda in between all of our birthday's to celebrate, that way no matter how far apart we are, we can still get together for our birthdays.” I stopped briefly, suddenly reminded that this would be the second year I would miss out on the tradition with my sisters.

“hm, I understand now,” Connor said quietly, “I recall you making a few of those flower crowns last year.” I looked at Connor a little sheepishly remembering last years “celebration”, The likes of which was filled with more melancholy then cheer, for obvious reasons I think. “If you would like, we can gather extra flowers for your crowns.”

“Oh, uh that's okay, we don't have to.” I said, tucking a loose lock of hair behind my ear. “Besides, we usually don't have it until the first week in may. There are a lot more flowers to choose from then anyway.”

“Well, whenever you decide to celebrate it, I will be happy to help.” He smiled at me before returning to his gathering task, and I followed suit, feeling a bit embarrassed until I thought of Connor trying to make a flower crown. Then I was simply trying to stifle a giggle. 

Since I simply wanted a small bouquet of my own, I continued to snap bunches of the lilacs off their branches. Spying another bunch of flowers I wanted just out of reach, I hopped up, snagging the branch and the flowers. However, the action caused a small shower of the tiny lilac petals to fall, catching in my hair and settling on my clothes. 

I heard Connor chuckle slightly, looking over to see the man holding his own small bouquet of lilacs, as he looked at me with a calm – almost content – expression. I smiled at him, feeling something warm in my chest begin to grow as we looked at each other, making my heart speed up ever so slightly.

“Um, do you need more flowers?” I said, breaking eye contact with him as I glanced down at my own pitiful bouquet. _What the hell is wrong with me?_ I thought. _Do I need to go see Doctor White?_

“Um, no. This should do.” I looked back to him to see that he was also gazing down at the lilacs in his hands. “I should get these to Norris, so he can give them to Miriam.”

I nodded. “Okay. I think I'm going to get a few more for the dining room table.” Connor quirked an eyebrow at me, and I gave him a half smile. “Hey, it could use some sprucing up.”

With one last chuckle Connor turned to leave. “Then I will see you back at the manor, Almira.”

“Okay,” I responded quietly, watching him disappear out of sight before turning back to collect more flowers. I ended up gathering a little more than I had originally intended, still mulling over the warm feeling I got at Connor's stare, before finally just deciding the tea was the cause of it.

_____________

 

Connor and I had yet to plan a return trip to Boston, and with the lull in activity, I found myself growing impatient to return to duty. It wasn't that I didn't enjoy being able to relax for the past few days, it was more the fact that I just _couldn't_ relax because there was still so much that needed to be done. Every trip to Boston showed the ever-increasing hostility towards the redcoats. Things were getting bad, and war was nearly here, despite the clamor from many politicians to avoid it. _And I should be doing **something** ,_ I thought moodily as I sat in the bath I had made for myself, idly watching the water run off my leg as I lifted it up. 

Baths weren't even helping ease the bubbling irritability of my current inaction, and a bath for me usually helped with _anything. At least I don't smell like toothpaste anymore..._ I mused as I scrubbed my leg with a lavender scented soap instead of a wintergreen one. Turns out, soap in the 18th century only had three different scents besides lard: Lavender, Wintergreen and a weird spice one called Caraway. I really wished they had lilac though; if I had to smell like anything, that would be my choice.

_Creeaak_

The sound of the wash room door opening caused me to freeze, looking over to see the intruder come brazenly in, unaware of the fact that it was currently occupied. Although his obliviousness only lasted to his second step into the room. Connor froze and his eyes went wide when he saw me, and it took him a second too long to shake off the shock and turn around.

“Almira, I... I did not –”

“Out.”

“I came for linens, I did not know you –”

“ _Out._ ”

“Sorry –”

“ _GET OUT._ ”

“Sorry! I am very s-” _THUNK_

In Connor's haste to make a quick exit he smacked in to the door frame, cradling his nose briefly before continuing to mutter apologies as he stumbled out the door. _Oh God..._

_____________

 

The restlessness I felt earlier had been replaced by pure embarrassment. I felt like apologizing to Connor, but I also felt like yelling at him, and another part of me wanted to find a nice big rock and hide under it for all eternity. At the moment, the rock-hiding thing was kinda winning out. I was sitting at my vanity staring glumly at my reflection, my arms haphazardly slung around my head, trying in vain to create my own rock to hide under. _What do I do in this sort of situation? This isn't going to ruin our friendship is it? Oh God, what if it does..._

I moaned, untangling my head slightly from my arms so I could rest my forehead on the vanity's surface, only to snap back up when I heard the sound of a knock. It wasn't coming from my door since it sounded too muffled, so I assumed it was coming from the front door. My embarrassment momentarily put on hold, I exited my room just in time to see Achilles answer the door, revealing what looked like a courier on the other side. My curiosity piqued, I hopped down the stairs, only to come to a full stop on the bottom. I'm pretty sure Connor and I were staring at each other with the same expression; like we were almost scared of the other person. But instead of running away and screaming, the two of us just gave each other _really_ awkward smiles and continued over to Achilles, who was reading a letter the courier had just delivered.

“What is it?” Connor asked, clearing his voice as he stepped up to the elder assassin. 

“A letter asking for aid from Paul Revere. It seems the Redcoats are up to something in Boston.” Achilles said, looking from the letter to the younger Assassin next to him. “It seems you have made an impression on the 'Sons of Liberty'.”

Connor sighed, frowning slightly before answering. “They mistake me for one of their own.” He turned to the courier, “Please, tell Mister Revere he has my sympathies, but I cannot help at present.”

The man nodded and turned to leave, but stopped when Achilles spoke up. “You may wish to reconsider. John Pitcairn is mentioned by name.” THAT completely changed Connor's dismissive attitude.

“Where am I to go?” he demanded.

“Mister Revere's house in Boston. I can take ya there if ya –” The poor man was cut off as Connor bowled past him, marching towards the stable. While I myself was rather excited to finally have news of Pitcairn, I knew better then to thunder off at a moment's notice.

“Hey!” I shouted after him, carefully going around the courier with an apologetic smile as I jogged to catch up. “Hey, you not going to pack anything before you go?”

He slowed, the determined look on his face softening in to an inquisitive expression. “It is your turn to – oh.” He suddenly looked like a kicked puppy, coming fully to a stop in the open area of the stables. “Are you... not coming?”

I frowned, cocking my head to the side in confusion before it finally dawned on me. “Oh... I... I thought I was – am – unless you didn't –”

“No I do, I do want you. To come, that is...”

“Okay...” We stood in awkward silence, just staring at each other before suddenly:

“I should've had a sign on the door –”

“I should have knocked –”

The two of us began speaking at the same time, only to stop mid apology and quietly chuckle, averting our gazes to our respective toes. When I looked back to Connor he was fidgeting with his hands, a small hint of the kicked puppy back in his eyes, “Are you angry?”

“A little... but I know you didn't mean to walk in on me. To be honest, I'm a little surprised it hasn't happened sooner.” He raised a brow and I simply shrugged. “Back home I could lock the door, which I can't do here. I suppose it was inevitable.”

He gave me a sheepish smile. “Perhaps it is time to put a lock on the door then?”

“Oh, _now_ you say that.” I giggled and simply smiled as we shared a less-awkward silence for a moment before I finally nodded back towards the manor. “I suppose I'll go pack our saddle bags then, and you get the horses?” He nodded as well, still giving me his half smile as he turned back to the barn. “hey don't forget – Birdie likes her ear rubbed when you put her bridle on. You do that and she won't fight you so much.” Connor simply looked back to me and shook his head, but I knew he would take my advice.

“Almira!” Connor's voice called as I began heading towards the manor. “Do not forget the extra shot this time!”

“Hey, that was an honest mistake!”

“ _Almira._ ”

“Uhg, I'll _remember..._ ”

 

_____________________________________

 

We left shortly after noon, arriving in Revere's house not long after dark, where a harried looking woman let us in. She led us to a parlor, where we were immediately assaulted by the voice of an over-enthusiastic man, who I had met a few times on business here in Boston.

“Ah, Connor!” Revere cheered, “and Almira! I'm so glad the two of you could make it.” He came over and stood in between us, facing the two other men in the room who were sitting at the table, calmly drinking tea. “Allow me to –” Revere placed a hand on our shoulders, which Connor immediately shrugged off, giving the other man a peeved sort of glare that Revere just grinned at (although be a little bit nervously) “– to introduce to you William Dawes and Robert Newman.”Connor basically ignored the men, while I gave them a stiff smile and a respectful nod, receiving skeptical – but polite – ones in return.

“Your letter said that John Pitcairn was here,” Connor all but growled, slowly pacing around the room.

“Aye. He's readying an assault on Lexington, where Adams and Hancock have taken shelter. After that, he will march on Concord, hoping to destroy our weapons and supplies. You must help us.” He ended with a tone that sounded a little less like pleading and more like “oh, thank you for volunteering!”

Connor only leveled his steely gaze at Revere. “Only tell us where to find him, and we will put a stop to this.”

Revere waved a dismissive hand, turning away from Connor. “He has dozens, if not hundreds of soldiers at his command. You cannot hope to match him by yourselves. But fear not;” His voice now took on a proud, almost sing-song tone. “For you will not have to. We have an entire army of our own, merely awaiting the orders to take up arms!” _The man is way too enthusiastic about this..._

“Then you must call upon them.” Connor was clearly tired of Revere's enthusiasm already, towering over the man as he glared at him impatiently. Revere, however, prattled on, unaware of the Wolf currently staring him down.

“Indeed!” he cheered with a nod, “ you and I will take the Charles river and rouse the boys!” He clapped Connor on his arm again in his excitement. Connor glared, and the hand was removed. “William, Almira,” he said, turning away from the assassin and to the eldest looking man in the room, who really didn't seem to be past the age of forty. “I need you to take the overland route, and do the same. ”

Dawes stood, looking at me for a moment, seeming a bit uncomfortable before giving Revere a tight nod. “ If you think it best.” 

“Don't worry my friend,” Paul chirped as he went over and clapped Dawes on the shoulder. “Should trouble arise, Almira here will see you through it.”

Dawes still looked doubtful, but gave Revere another nod all the same. “If you say so Paul.” Dawes turned to me, gesturing towards the door. “Shall we?”

I gave him an unimpressed gaze as he led the way out of the parlor, before glancing over to Connor, who gave me a nod. “Stay safe, Almira.”

“You too,” I said, tipping my hat to him before I hopped off after Dawes, catching up to the man before he got out the door. “Don't worry Mister Dawes,” I said with false enthusiasm as we stepped out on to the Boston streets. “Chances are everything will run smoothly, and I'll never have a chance to show my mettle.”

“No offense Miss Almira, but I do hope that is the case.”

I simply gave him a tight smile, hoping it was too.

 

______________________________________________ 

 

Dawes and I ended up taking Connor's horse (Saltwater) and Birdie for this ride, even though the two horses were a bit winded from the trek to Boston. In all honesty, the ride was a bit boring. The two of us didn't come across any British patrols as we stopped in a few villages to tell them of the news, merely riding unhindered all the way to Lexington.

We arrived at the house where Hancock and Adams were staying, finding a sweaty chestnut still trying to catch it's breath out side.

“Paul must have just gotten here.” Dawes said, eying the winded horse.

“Or Connor.”

“Perhaps.”

It turns out we were both right. Walking into the house, I heard not only Connor's voice, but Revere's as well.

“You don't understand,” Connor said as Dawes and I entered the room. “Pitcairn intends to kill you.”

_Well that's new..._ Silence settled over the room as I looked around, spying Adams and a man I assumed was Hancock, sitting at a table exchanging sober glances with each other. Adams looked to Revere for confirmation, who nodded gravely to the men in front of him. “I'm afraid it's true.” 

With a sigh, Adams stood, “I suppose we have no choice then but to go.” He looked around the room, raising a brow to Paul, Dawes, Connor and I. “What of the four of you?”

“Dawes and I, will continue on to Concord,” Revere said with a nod to the man I had escorted here, before turning to the assassin, “Connor, Almira, perhaps it's best you stay here and help our man John Parker hold the town. It'll give us time to spread the word.”

“I will stay, but I think it would be wise if you took Almira with you, instead of leaving us both behind.”

Paul looked at Connor with a thoughtful frown, while I glanced between the two with a raised brow. “Perhaps that is a good idea, Connor, considering the events of our ride. Almira? You don't mind getting back in the saddle do you?”

_Kinda._ “Of course not.” 

“Excellent, then let us be off!” He declared in almost the same cheery tone he had earlier that evening, gesturing to the door as he began marching towards it; but he stopped when I held up my hand.

“However, before we go, I'd like a word with Connor.”

“Oh, of course, Almira. Just please be quick about it, time is of the essence.”

I looked to Connor and nodded towards the door. He led the way outside, coming to a stop just off the steps and turning to level me with a gaze that said he knew he was going to get an ear full.

“ Am I playing babysitter again then?” I growled quietly.

“I would not have called it such, but yes.”

“Are you serious?”

Connor's voice was his usual calm and quiet. “Revere and Dawes are not fighters, and should they get into trouble, it will be up to you to get them out of it. They must get to Concord so that the people there can prepare for Pitcairn's army, should I not be able to kill him here in Lexington.” 

I shuffled my feet unhappily, resting my hands on my hips as I looked at my toes. “I don't like it when you're convincing,” I mumbled as an uneasy feeling settled over me. His mention of Pitcairn's army caused a chill along my spine, the reality of the situation – what was coming – just starting to dawn on me.

Connor tilted his head to the side, trying to catch my eye when I remained quiet. “Something else is bothering you.”

I shuffled some more, fidgeting with my hands as I glanced up at him. “You going to be alright? Without m-” I cut myself off, tsking as I looked away, “Who am I kidding, of course you'll be alright, you're you...”

“Almira,” Connor rested his hand on my shoulder, trying to get me to look at him again. “Almira, tell me what is wrong.”

I sighed. “I'm just... worried. With the battle you'll be facing...” I shuffled again. “Frankly, I'd rather stay and watch your back –” The sound of the door behind me opening signaled that our talk was at an end, whether we liked it or not.

Connor glanced at the men coming down the stairs before resting his other hand on my shoulder, leaning in a little closer. “Everything will be alright Almira; I will come and meet you in Concord when I am able.”

“Don't be late.” I said meekly, giving him a small smile. He returned it, letting his hands slide down to my arms, squeezing them lighty before dropping them entirely. 

“Are you ready Miss Woodson?” Paul called.

I wanted to say no, I wanted to tell him to ride off without me, but Connor had spoken reason, and I couldn't be rebellious forever. “Sure, let's get going.”

 

_______________________________

 

“– and that, my dear girl, is how you make a copper engraving,” Paul chirped to me, as our horses plodded along, grateful for the small respite we were giving them. I stared at the back of the man's head, trying to resist the strong urge I had to shove him off the horse and continue on to Concord without him (Connor had taken Saltwater, and Dawes thought it would be a fantastic idea to ride Birdie. Needless to say he's been regretting that decision.). It felt like he had not stopped talking since we left Hancock's house back in Lexington, and you'd think with a mission like this along with the late hour, he'd be a little more cautious and a little more tired. Like me.

_Is this what Connor dealt with?_ I thought as the horses trudged along, and Revere beginning to prattle on about... something. I yawned, the early start to the day I had beginning to catch up to me as the hours past midnight ticked by. Half way through my yawn something caught my eye. Birdie, who had continued to be a complete grouch since Lexington, suddenly perked up. Her ears, which had been pinned back, shot forward, and her drooping, tired head rose slightly. I leaned around Revere to try and see what had gotten Birdie's attention, only to see the slight rise in the road. But I thought I heard something.

I strained my ears to try and listen for whatever was out there, but couldn't hear anything over the horses' hoof beats, not to mention Revere's chatter. “Shhh!” I hissed, tapping him on his shoulder. “And stop the horses.”

“Almira, what are you –”

“I said SHH!” I whispered harshly at him, as the two men reluctantly brought their horses to a stop. Birdie was still focusing her attention ahead of us, and the chestnut Revere and I sat on gradually perked up as well. After a moment of sitting still and listening, I could finally hear it. “Horses,” I said, “I hear horses.”

“She's right,” Dawes agreed, “most likely a British patrol.” He turned to Revere, “We must split up – quickly!” 

Just as he ordered Revere to turn away I saw it, a slight glow touching the edge of the rise. The sound of horse hooves grew louder. “Shit, shit, shit, _shit!_ Go Revere, _go!_ ” I hissed at the man, clutching his shoulders with a vice grip as he turned the chestnut in the opposite direction of Dawes and Birdie. We only got a few strides away before I heard an unfamiliar voice shout _“STOP!”_ Revere, of course, did the opposite, kicking the horse into a tired gallop. We dashed through a short field before reaching the forest, but we already had two redcoat soldiers on our heels, who had the advantage of fresh horses, and they weren’t riding double either.

I _knew_ if I didn't do something they were going to catch us and do God knows what. Hell, they might just kill us. My chance came when our horse slowed, finding it difficult to continue crashing through the forest as we were, giving one of the redcoat soldiers a chance to come up next to us. The man reached out to try and pull our horse in, but I sprung from it, grabbing him around his waist and pulling him off his own. The maneuver of course pulled me off my horse as well, and I shouted to Revere to continue riding as the redcoat and I hit the forest floor, rolling together awkwardly.

The redcoat flopped on top of me as we came to a stop, immediately taking advantage of his position. Pinning me down with one hand, he raised the other for a punch – only to freeze, the hand holding me to the ground briefly roaming my chest. “You're a _woman?!_ ” he said in a bewildered tone.

“Surprise...” I growled, taking the opportunity to give him a sloppy uppercut before shoving him off of me so I could stand, hearing the other rider come crashing through the woods as I did so. Gruffly grabbing my stunned groper I threw him to the ground and turned, going after the other rider before he could ride past after Revere. I pulled a similar maneuver on him, jumping up as he tried to go past, wrapping an arm around his waist and grabbing his arm causing him to flump to the ground awkwardly. The result wasn't exactly the same as with the first rider, but it did get him off his horse and onto the ground; unfortunately, the first rider was up and at it again. 

Grabbing me from behind the redcoat tried to subdue me by pinning my arms to my sides. “Miss please, don't make this worse f- _OOF!_ ”

I threw my weight backwards, causing him to stumble slightly and then trip over a log, the air in his lungs _woosh_ ing out when I landed on him. His grip on me lessened enough for me to wiggle free, only to have rider number two in front of me when I stood, trying to take a swing at me. I hastily blocked his blow and retaliated with one of my own, before I decided just to _run_. They didn't have their horses anymore, and the longer I had their attention the longer they weren't chasing Revere. It was also difficult to fight in these conditions – not only were we in a forest, but it was dark, with little light from the moon, and there were two of them and a tired one of me. So I took off, hearing rider number two curse as I started running, the groper shout something back. 

_BANG_

A pain I had never experienced before ripped through my left thigh, making me scream and drop to the forest floor. I clutched at it, already feeling a warm, sticky wetness seeping through my pants. With a grunt I grit my teeth against the stabbing, burning, _screaming_ pain. _Shot... I've been shot..._ I heard footsteps behind me and I tried to crawl away, as fruitless as it was, my leg feeling like a pain-filled weight on my body. A hand roughly grabbed me and flipped me over, and before I could do much of anything a savage kick was delivered to my leg, just below my bullet wound. I screamed again, the pain causing my back to spasm and arch as stars started to fill my vision. 

“Scream all you want _bitch_!” the man above me growled before he swooped down, grappling for my wrists as I struggled to get him off of me.

“Piers! Damn it Piers, get off her!”

“Shove off Cox, this one's – _ERG!_ ” The man that was straddling me was suddenly thrown back, the first rider now standing next to me, his silhouette facing the man he just threw away from me. 

“Our orders were to bring them back _alive_. Not shoot them and rape them!” My attacker grumbled something as he dusted himself down, but the first rider ignored it as he growled “Go find our goddamn horses. We need to get back to the Captain.”

Again the second grumbled, but his silhouette turned away, presumably to do what he'd been told. The remaining rider stood tensely for a moment, watching his comrade walk off in to the woods before relaxing, a _shunk_ sound indicating a sword sliding back into its sheath. “Slimy bastard,” the man mumbled as his silhouette turned towards me. I tried to feebly crawl away, if only on instinct, one hand clutching my still bleeding leg as I clawed at the ground with the other. “Don't struggle, please, you'll only make whatever injury you have worse.” 

“Screw you...” I hissed between clenched teeth. “You already... ungh...” I gasped, pausing in my crawl as another wave of pain coursed through my leg and up my spine; “...shh-shot me. What do you care if I get worse?”

“ Quite a bit, and it was Piers who shot you, not me Miss.”

“Little _comfort._ ”

I heard him sigh. “Look, I can understand why you might not want my help, but you could die without it, so please...” Slowly, very slowly, the man knelt down next to me. I stiffened, my being screaming to fight back, but knowing it would be useless. I was injured – badly – and I didn't have a horse. And even if I did, where would I go? On to Concord? A place I only knew the general direction of? Or back to Lexington? Would I bleed out before I got to either place? My leg needed tending to, because it really, _really hurt._ “There,” he said, once he settled on to his knees beside me. “Now, can you tell me where he shot you?”

I snarled at the man, deciding I had little choice but to comply. “My leg...”

“Hm, alright that's not as bad as what I feared. Now how bad –” He started reaching for my legs, and I immediately smacked him away.

“Don't _touch_ me!” I growled. “I think you've had your fill for the day anyway.”

“I wasn't going to –” He paused mid-sentence as what I meant dawned on him and sighed, “I didn't mean to, um, – grab – your, uh...” He made a helpless gesture at me, and I simply raised my brow at him, even though he couldn't see it.

Breasts?”

“Yes, well... to be fair, it is dark, and you should not be out at this hour.”

I couldn't help but laugh. “Oh my God you sound like my father when I was twelve!” 

He sighed. “Well perhaps if you listened to him, you would not be lying on the forest floor with a bullet in your leg. Speaking of which, I still need to see to your wound...” He hesitated for a moment, before the shape of his hand extended towards me, “Would you be so kind as to show me where it is?” I stared at his hand for a while, then grabbed his wrist and brought it to my wound. Slowly he began exploring the wound with his fingers, and soon found the bullet hole.

“OW! Son of a _BITCH_ , CAN YOU NOT?” I barked at him, grabbing his wrist again and yanking it away from my leg.

“Sorry, sorry! I ah –” His other hand tried to pry mine off his wrist as I squeezed the joint, slowly twisting it. “– I was trying to determine the extent of your injury and my _God_ will you let go?” I shoved him away as I released him, which was probably a little rude, but I really didn't like being at this man's mercy. “Ah, well... I will say this about you, you have a good grip,” he said as he stood, rubbing his wrist as he came around and knelt on the other side of me, closer to my hurt leg.

“What are you doing?” I hissed, cringing away from him. He held up a hand again, this time followed by the sound of rustling fabric.

“You need some sort of bandage on your leg, or you'll bleed out, you've already lost quite a bit already. Here hold still...” Quickly, but gently, he pressed what felt like a folded cloth to my wound, instructing me to hold it for him as he lashed another piece around my leg, tying it tightly and causing me to lash out again.

“Damn it! ah... Do you have something against being gentle?” I said as I shoved him before flopping onto my back, panting slightly as I tried to power through the pain, which was slightly difficult to do so as the world around me wobbled softly.

“No Miss, I do not. You, on the other hand, seem to have an uncanny aversion to it.” I wanted to snap a witty comment back at him, but the tipping and slow spinning of the world around me preoccupied my mind. I knew it wasn't really spinning and tipping, but try as I might I couldn't shake the feeling. It felt similar to my first night on the _Aquila_ , the tips and sways reminding me of the ocean, but without the consistency. _Maybe I should shut my eyes. It helped on the Aquila..._ But the relief I was looking for was taken from me, as something had taken hold of my shoulder and begun gruffly shaking it. “Miss? Miss! MISS!”

“Ssstop, that's not helping...” I groaned, feebly batting his hand away from me, suddenly lacking the energy to do anything else. “You're making the world spin more.”

“Spin? Oh. Oh dear. Perhaps you lost a great deal...” I heard him mutter before I felt the hand return to my shoulder. “ Miss, why don't... Why don't you tell me your name? I can't keep calling you 'Miss'.”

“Nooo...” _Why can't he just leave?_

“Oh come now, even a nickname will do.”

Uhg... “Fox... The sailors like to call me Fox... I have red hair...”

“Fox, alright then, Miss Fox, I am Lieutenant Lawrence Cox of His Majesty’s army... and I have brown hair.” I heard him mutter a few curses before calling out, “PIERS! PIERS!”

“I'm here Cox!” another voice called back, “Found the damn animals. Is the harlot dead yet?”

“Mind your tongue, Sargent. The _lady_ is in great trouble because of you. Now bring my horse here, we need to report back to the Captain and miss Fox needs a proper bandage.”

“Huh, getting friendly with the prisoner now, eh Cox?”

“Piers, you insubordinate wretch. The only words I want to hear out of your mouth for the rest of the night are 'yes sir' – am I understood?”

There was a pause before I heard a gritted “Yes sir” from the dipshit who apparently shot me. _I should strangle him..._ I thought as I watched the shadowy world above me twist and sway, remembering a quote from one of my favorite TV shows; _if anyone tries to kill you, you try and kill 'em right back!_ This Piers not only tried to kill me, he tried worse. While the world did not cease its spinning, I was filled with a new rage, and began the struggle to stand.

“Easy there Miss Fox, you shouldn't –” I tried to push my helper – Lawrence – away as I fought to right myself, but the man simply clutched my arm a little tighter.

“You,” I growled as I pointed in the direction of Piers, who for some reason would just _not_ hold still. “You are the shhh...” suddenly the world spun more violently, and my good leg turned to jelly; I felt Lawrence wrap an arm around my waist, calling for a fox over and over again. The shadows that made up the forest merged together, shutting out the faint moonlight and encasing the forest in darkness, taking all sound and all feeling with them.


	10. Chapter 9

It was a bit odd – my pillow was rather warm, and it smelled too. It wasn't a terrible smell; a little dusty and horseish, but also the musky scent of man. The dust and horse smell was normal, even though my pillow never really smelled like either... No what was odd was the musk. It reminded me of Connor after a day's work, but it didn't quite smell like him, something was off. I tried to lean into it a little, but the pillow didn't give way like it usually did. Instead it felt stiff and really warm.

“Miss Fox?”

_PILLOWS DO NOT TALK!_ My eyes flew open and I twitched away from my “pillow”, realizing as I did so that I had not been lying down, but in fact was sitting awkwardly upright on something lumpy and moving. The world tilted slowly as I struggled to sit straighter, finding it difficult as something tried to pull me back towards what I had been leaning on. I looked back to the “pillow”, finding instead a man, dressed in the tell-tale redcoat of a British soldier, and currently frowning down at me with a concerned expression. 

“Miss Fox, try not to move. You passed ou-” I sharply elbowed the man in the gut, knocking the wind out of him, and causing his arm to slacken. I went to push him further away, but the thing I was sitting on was rather narrow, and I ended up tipping off of it when I tried to shove him. Putting my hands out to brace my fall I found I couldn't separate them from each other, and sort of awkwardly flopped on to my shoulder, getting a face full of dirt. I struggled to right myself as everything around me still tipped and swayed, the oddly lit road I found myself lying on threatened to darken to nothing, as the edges of my vision blurred. I heard and felt hoof beats on the ground, the earth echoing with the sound of horses stomping and pawing, clearly frustrated over something. _Run_ I thought, _run get away!_ I wobbled to my feet, only to fall back down again in the dirt, my left leg giving way under my weight. 

“What's going on back there?” I heard a voice shout as I lay there, my leg throbbing with a fresh wave of pain. I struggled to get past it and stand up again, and was surprised when a hand took me by the arm, pulling me to my feet as another encircled my waist to give support.

“Don't struggle so, Miss Fox. You'll only make your condition worse,” a familiar voice said next to me. I looked up at him and frowned, seeing the same man who I had been resting on earlier. I could make out the details of his face in the light of a lantern; his face was angular, with high cheek bones and a well-defined jawline, and sharp, stone colored eyes contrasted well with his light colored hair. “Come now, let's get you back on the horse.”

“Let go of me!” I growled, “I don't -”

“ _Lieutenant!_ ” a commanding voice called out, I glanced in the direction of it to find a British soldier riding up to us on a large dapple gray horse. The man had a harsh look to him, an image most likely helped by the dramatic lighting of the lantern he carried. He seemed to be in his late forties, with extremely light colored eyes, their color almost completely washed out by the light, giving him an otherworldly look as he glared at me from the seat of his dappled beast. “Lieutenant, what's going on back here?” The man's eyes held a certain contempt to them as he scowled at my helper and I.

“Captain, my apologies, the lady woke up and was frightened and confused – fell right off the horse.” 

“Well get her back on! We don't have time for any womanly tantrums.” 

I glared at the officer as he began to turn away. “Tant–” 

Immediately a hand muffled my retort, and a hurried, “Aye, sir.” was grunted next to my ear. He waited 'til the officer was a few paces away before bringing his face in front of mine. “ Promise me you will not cause more trouble for yourself, Miss Fox.” I stared at him, but the look on his face stopped me from doing anything else. There was genuine concern, mixing with what looked like anger and... fear?

He took my silence as cooperation, and proceeded to lift me back on to the horse, before swinging up himself. I sat sideways on the horse, which was more comfortable for my leg, but balancing and the actual _sitting_ wasn't. However, once my caretaker took his seat in the saddle my wobbling became less of an issue, since he gently rested a hand on my arm while the other gathered up the reins. I felt the end of his nose tickling the hair on the top of my head as he nodded to another rider next to us. “Thank you James.”

“It's no trouble.” A strange English accent spoke behind me, and I twisted carefully around to see another rider release the reins of our horse. The man caught my eye and smiled at me pleasantly, a few locks of his bright blond hair escaping from under his hat as he tipped it at me. “Don't worry miss; you're in good hands. The Lieutenant has more pull with the men here then –” 

“James,” my caretaker said in a soft scolding tone to the blond. “Not now, please.”

James looked slightly abashed my the other mans admonishment, “Aye sir,” he said, before giving us both a nod and returning to his post.

I turned back to my caretaker, eyeing him as we began to move. “Who are you?” I growled quietly, not wanting (and not needing) to raise my voice much above a whisper since we were so close together.

“Ah, I suppose it was rather dark. I am Lawrence, if you recall.” His tone was calm and quiet, and he glanced down at me with an almost apologetic smile. I glared at him before looking to my hands, which were bound with rope. I wiggled them around slightly, finding give, but nothing that would aid in a quick escape. “I apologize for the bonds,” Lawrence said, apparently taking notice of my test, “but between the Captain's insistence, along with the hostile nature you have shown, it could not be avoided.” 

I scoffed. “What, afraid I'll hit you again?” I looked back up at him, noticing a slightly red mark near his chin where my uppercut had landed. 

“It would not be in your best interest, Miss Fox.”

“Oh really? And what _would_ be in my best interest then, hm?”

“To stop fighting so much, and listen to me.”

“Why?”

Lawrence gazed at me with a sober expression, “Because I am the greatest chance you have at getting through this alive and whole.”

I stared at him, thinking he was being rather dramatic about the whole thing, but the expression on his face was a little too serious to brush off. I sighed, looking away from him and to the other riders in the patrol. We seemed to be at the back of the procession, along with blond haired James, and in between us and the rest of the patrol were about five men on foot. It was clear that these men were prisoners; their hands bound behind them as they trudged along the road, their path lit by lanterns wielded by a rider ahead of them and by James next to us. The riders rode in pairs: Lawrence, James and I at the back, with two other pairs in front of the prisoners, and one man at the head. I assumed this man was the ill-tempered Captain, since he sat atop a dappled gray horse, all proud to be leading a procession of soldiers and prisoners.

I looked back to the prisoners, the lot of them looking like couriers, and most of them seeming to be young men or even boys. They were all glancing about nervously, and one in particular looked back at me, giving me a good look of his face. _Oh you son of a bitch..._

“Corporal Croxford and Booth caught up to your escort, Mr. Revere, when his horse stumbled and broke its leg.” Lawrence said, leaning to the side slightly to see what I had been staring at.

I wrinkled my nose at his words, feeling a little ashamed at my anger when I thought of Revere letting himself get captured, and sorry for the poor loyal little chestnut that was truly the cause of his seizure. However, something else Lawrence had said let a small bubble of anger behind. “He wasn't _my_ escort.”

“There is no need to lie, Miss Fox. Mr. Revere called you by name when he saw you, and was quite worried about your condition.”

I rolled my eyes, causing the world to wobble a bit more. “I'm not lying, I was _his_ esc-” I snapped my head back around, finding it slightly difficult to focus as his face tipped and swayed from side to side. “My name?”

He had the audacity to chuckle, “Yes, he called you 'Almira'. Quite a beautiful name, was there a reason you were averse to using it?”

“I didn't want to be known,” I growled, looking back to Revere.

“Hm... Well, if it will put you at ease, he did not mention your family name.” I simply grunted in response to his reassurances. I felt him sigh, the action tickling my hair slightly, “Is he a brother, by chance? Or an uncle?”

“What!?” 

“No need to be alarmed, I am simply trying to understand your relation to Mr. Revere, and why he would permit a young woman to go gallivanting off into the night. Dressed in trousers no less...” 

“Okay, one,” I hissed, glaring at him, “Revere and I are basically just good acquaintances, and two, I can dress however I damn well please. I mean, have _you_ ever tried to go riding in a dress?”

“I – what!? No! Of course –”

“Also, like I was saying before, I was his escort. It was my job to see that he reached his destination in one piece.” I huffed slightly, looking away from him. “If that poor horse hadn't broken its leg, I would have succeeded.”

“No honorable man would use a woman as his _bodyguard_. Why on earth did he think such a thing was a good idea?”

“It wasn't his idea, it was... um, mine,” I lied as I glanced off to the side, thinking it might not be best to say anything about Connor. “And to be fair, it _was_ a rather good idea, if it wasn't for the getting shot and the broken horse.”

Lawrence made a sound somewhere between a hum and a grunt. “I suppose if those two occurrences had not transpired; yes, Revere would have gotten away, but who's to say you would have? Would you not have been lost in the woods with only God knows what out there?” 

I continued to stare at the other riders, seeing them occasionally converse with one another, or look back to check on or give an order to the other prisoners. “I knew what I was dealing with out there...” 

Lawrence remained quiet for a moment, before shifting slightly and leaning away from me, causing me to wobble from lack of support. Before things could get too bad, Lawrence was putting a canteen in my hands. “You're still weak from losing blood. Here, drink something, and if you're still up for more, I have a few biscuits in my bags. They may be a bit stale though.”

I looked at the canteen in my hands before glancing up at Lawrence. “Why are you doing this?”

“Beg pardon?”

“Why are you helping me? Why me, and not that boy over there?” I said, nodding to one of the prisoners. I could have been wrong, but the boy seemed to be around thirteen years old, and the red stained cloth wrapped around his arm told me he wasn't in the best shape. 

“I have taken you on as my responsibility. If I hadn't, a great number of unpleasant things would have befallen you, beginning with Piers'... um, _violation_ of you.”

_I would have killed him if he tried,_ I thought. I didn't think it was quite a good idea to say something like that aloud, but I knew I was definitely capable of doing so if it had come down to it. “So you're trying to be all noble and what not, is that it?”

“I am a gentleman, Miss Fox. A gentleman would not allow a lady to go unaided. Even if that lady chooses to wear trousers and spout profanity as he helps her,” he added, giving me a disapproving look, but softening it with a small smile.

“My _profanity_ was called for, I think. I had just gotten shot after all...”

He scoffed softly, an action I felt more then heard as he shook his head slightly from side to side. Looking back to the canteen I decided to at least take a sip, not having had anything to drink since Revere's place, and ended up not lowering the canteen 'til it was about half-way empty. Handing him back the canteen, Lawrence immediately replaced it with a biscuit, the thin round wafer looking most unappetizing. I fidgeted with it, turning it over in my fingers a few times as I contemplated the man next to me.

“You're the first halfway decent redcoat I've met, you know” I said offhandedly, nibbling on the biscuit a little.

“Really?” he said with genuine shock in his voice. “ I am sorry to hear that Miss Fox. Although it does answer a question of mine.” I paused in my nibbling and cocked my head at him. “I was curious to know why you decided to aid the rebels.”

“Pfft, a few rough run-ins with Redcoats isn't what made me take sides, they only reinforced it.”

“What did they do to earn your disdain?” 

“Where to start?” I scoffed, “Maybe with the eviction of some of my friends from their home and Inn? Or another's whose farm was destroyed? There also was that one time when a group of Redcoats decided to beat the snot out of a friend of mine for doing nothing else other then talking to me and being _French_. Then there was another time where one redcoat tried to kill me, and another thought I was some sort of tavern wench.” I spat, remembering the tales of the many homesteaders along with my own encounters of British soldiers.

“I... I am so sorry, Miss Fox. I am not sure what to say. I had heard... I thought the rumors were exaggerated.”

“You thought they were _rumors?!_ ” I hissed, glaring at him.

“I arrived from England not three weeks ago, and have been stationed at Castle William, in Boston. I have not had the chance to... mingle much among the town since I arrived, rumors and gossip are all I know of this place I'm afraid.” I snorted at him, shaking my head. “Please know, Miss Fox, that not all the King's men are as you have seen. In fact, most are like James and I: born gentlemen.” He paused and shifted in the saddle for a moment, a look of discomfort on his face. “Perhaps... Perhaps Miss Fox, a few of your friends might have over-exaggerated their transgressions with the King's Men. They... they must have been following orders, and as citizens of the colonies it is their duty to –”

“Are you trying to tell me they should be _proud_ that their home were taken from them!?” I snarled at him, wanting to grab the man by his coat and smack sense in to him.

“No! I mean – Miss Fox–”

_BANG_

The sudden sharp sound of a musket shot echoed out from down the road ahead of us. The patrol came to a staggering halt, everyone looking to their comrade for answers they couldn't give. I was just as confused as the rest of them were, looking about for myself before finally glancing back at the Redcoat beside me. “Where are we going?” I asked in a harsh whisper, realizing I hadn't bothered to ask beforehand.

“Lexington,” he stated, his gaze looking ahead with a small hint of alarm.

“YOU, what did you call yourself? Revere? Explain to me what that was. NOW.” I heard the Captain demand as his horse stomped up to the prisoners ahead of us, his glower fixed on Revere. To Revere's credit, he didn't shy away from the Captain's glare. “A signal sir,” he said, his voice holding only a hint of fear, “ a signal to alarm the country.”

Stonewall's glare only deepened. “What do you mean by that?” he barked. “QUICKLY!” he shouted at the man. Revere twitched and began to stutter, but didn't say much of anything more helpful then the words “It's a signal” which only angered the Redcoat Captain further. With a growl, he turned away from Revere and fixed his gaze on to me. “Lieutenant, take her off the horse.”

I stiffened, seeing out of the corner of my eye that Lawrence had as well. “Sir, she doesn't know anything I-”

“ _Lieutenant,_ ” he said, his voice lowering to a dangerous tone as he set his menacing gaze on to Lawrence. With clearly a great deal of reluctance, Lawrence dismounted and gently pulled me off the horse, helping me to stand once I was down.

Once I was on the ground, Stonewall hopped off his horse and gruffly grabbed my arm, ripping me away from Lawrence and dragging me over to Revere. Literally. I tried to limp, but my leg hurt too much, and I ended up stumbling as the man hauled me over to the rest of the prisoners, throwing me down at Revere's feet.

“Tell me what the signal meant... _now._ ” Stonewall commanded of Paul, but the poor man simply looked from the Captain to me in confusion and fear. Stonewall didn't wait long before he snarled, and delivered a solid kick to my stomach. I let out a half-scream, half-wheeze, as the air left my lungs, and the slight taste of bile touched my tongue. Doubling over I coughed feebly, the action causing more pain to ripple through my body. “TELL ME WHAT THE SIGNAL MEANT.” I heard Stonewall roar at Paul, waiting a moment before I saw him lift his leg to kick me again.

“REDCOATS!” Revere yelled as I braced for impact. “ It means redcoats are sighted.” I watched as the Captain's boot settled back on the ground, and I relaxed slightly still coughing from his first assault. Without warning, the Captain suddenly grabbed my hair, using it to pull me into a kneeling position. I struggled as best I could with my bum leg and sore abdomen, but halted as soon as I felt the cold, sharp prick of steel on my neck.

“Is that the truth, or something you want me to believe?” he hissed by my ear, “For her sake it best be the truth...”

“It is! I swear!” Revere spoke quickly. “Our forces are gathered at Lexington and prepared to fight the British troops, it's the truth! I can only assume that your patrol, or perhaps another was spotted, and so the town was alerted.” 

The bite of steel sunk slightly deeper in to my skin, making me hiss and as I felt a wet, warm trickle slide down to my collar bone and beyond “Sir!” came Lawrence's voice; “I implore you to not cause any more harm to the lady!”

“Return to your post, Lieutenant.” Stonewall growled.

“Captain please, nothing will be gained if you continue torturing her! We will have a riot on our hands when we reach Lexington, if the townsfolk see an innocent girl –”

“Innocent? She tried to kill us!” cried a new and slightly familiar voice. 

“How? By pulling us off our horses and running away? Good God Piers, how thick can you get? She may be foolish and spirited, but a killer she is not.”

“Aye, I agree with Lieutenant Cox,” another voice chimed in, “Causing the girl further harm will only incite the locals' rage, and to further support his argument, was it not Piers himself who stated that he shot at her while she was running away?” A small chorus of “Aye” went up around me, and the fist that was in my hair tightened momentarily before suddenly throwing me to the ground. 

“ _Fine,_ ” the Captain snarled, stomping away from me as I dropped to the dirt. “I will spare the filthy little tart for now, if it eases the stomachs of you lot,” I heard him mutter, along with other harshly spoken words I couldn't quite catch as he stomped back to his horse. I laid there curled in to a painful ball, my leg throbbing again, my stomach feeling so tender breathing hurt, and my neck stinging as it slowly oozed blood.

“Almira? Almira,can you hear me?”

“Oh Miss Fox, I am so sorry...” I saw someone kneel next to me, while a hand gently rolled me on to my back and another cradled my head, bringing Lawrence's concerned face into view along with a very sorry looking Paul Revere.

“Oh, Almira I'm so sorry for all of this. If I only didn't agree to –”

“You best be getting back to your place in line,” Lawrence cut in softly, causing Revere to look at the Redcoat sharply. “I promise you – I will do my utmost to see that she is cared for, but there is little I can do for you, so for your own sake, please return to your place with the other prisoners.” With a reluctant nod, Revere stood and walked back to stand amongst the other men. “Come on, Miss Fox, I need to get you back to the horse,” Lawrence said quietly to me, as he tried gently to pick me up and return me to his horse. “James, would you mind leading the horse for a while? Just until I can bandage her cut,” Lawrence asked once he had mounted the horse as well.

“Of course, Lawrence,” I heard the blond man say behind me, as I saw Lawrence pull out a fresh set of linen wraps from his saddle bags.

“Quite the man, your Captain,” I muttered, slowly looking up at Lawrence as he dabbed at my neck. “You must be so _proud_ to call him such.” 

He winced slightly at the contempt in my voice, frowning down at me – but before he could say anything James' voice rose up in a hushed tone behind me. “Duty binds us Miss, to follow orders from our superiors.” The resentment in his tone was clear, and only became more pronounced as he continued. “However, duty has never before left such a sour taste in my mouth then it has with Captain Stonewall.”

“ _James._ ”

“I've been serving with him for nearly six months now Lawrence, and in the short time you've been here I know you have seen it as well, especially after the incident with Adrian. The man is cruel because he wants to be and these colonists are simply giving him reason.”

“ _James!_ ” Lawrence hissed, “Now is not the time for such talk... Even if I agree with you.” He said the last with less heat as he gently tied the bandage around my neck. I glanced at Lawrence and James, seeing the genuine disdain in their expressions over the discussion of their Captain's behavior. It was clear, even in the very short time I had been around the man, that there was little good about him. It was also obvious that he was losing the respect of his men, since many spoke out against his mistreatment of me. It made me wonder if he had their respect in the first place, although I assumed he most certainly had their fear.

_We need to get out of here,_ I thought as I looked at the other prisoners. I knew it was only a matter of time 'til Stonewall killed one of us, and even if he didn't, we were still prisoners. I didn't have the slightest idea of what would happen to us if they got us all back to a stronghold of some sort, but it could be nothing good. 

_DING, dong, DING, dong_

A sharp ringing sounded ahead of us, causing the entire patrol to come to a standstill again. “The bell's a'ringing!” the young boy with the bandage around his arm shouted. “The Town's alarmed and you're all dead men!”

Stonewall come trotting back towards the boy, a look of fury on his face as he stared down the young prisoner, and without a word he drew his pistol and shot him. I half-screamed – half-gasped in shock, as the boy's body slumped to the ground ahead of me, a pool of blood quickly forming around his still body.

“ _Sir!_ ” Lawrence cried next to me, the outrage on his face clearly seen in the pale light of dawn. “What in God's name do you think you are doing?”

“Serving him his due,” the Captain stated as he glared at Lawrence, slowly holstering his pistol while his horse took a few steps towards us.

“His outburst might have called for a flogging, but not an execution!”

“Well it was an execution he received!” the Captain bellowed.

“It was unjustified and dishonorable! Any respectable man with a shred of decency, would know this. Your actions are a disgrace not only to yourself, but to your rank, your men, and your country!” Lawrence defiantly shouted back, his face tinged red with a sort of righteous anger. Stonewall on the other hand, had turned an unsightly purple at his words, and I was sure that if his pistol was still loaded, he would have shot Lawrence square in the face.

“How _dare_ you...” Stonewall growled loudly, dismounting his dappled giant before drawing his sword. “You think yourself better? More apt then I at understanding what must be done with these quarrelsome rebels? Step down then and let us speak!”

“Take care of her,” Lawrence quickly said to James before swiftly hopping off the horse and drawing his own weapon. He approached Stonewall with slow steps, coming to a halt a few paces in front of the Captain, his sword raised and ready. The rest of the company watched the two men with tightly drawn faces, drifting out of formation to see the confrontation better.

I glanced at James and a few of the others that had supported Lawrence in his outburst, expecting them to come to his aid, but they didn't. Instead they watched as the two men clashed swords, the blades glinting in the pale dawn light, and the sound of their meeting adding to the bell ringing in the distance. _Are they just going to sit there!?_ I thought, glancing over from the men to the two fighters. It was clear the they were matched for skill, although I assumed Stonewall had more experience being older than Lawrence, and I wasn't sure how long he could hold out against the Captain. 

“Miss Fox! What are you doing!? Stop!” James cried as I began struggling with the rope around my wrists. I ignored him, figuring he had his hands full handling not only his horse, but Lawrence's as well, and bent to the task of removing the rope. _Where's my knife when I need it?_ The rope rubbed my skin raw and almost bloody as I fought the bindings, pulling and wiggling while still trying to keep my balance on the dancing horse beneath me. James was still attempting to grab my attention, and it wasn't until I was nearly free that he reached out and grabbed me. “Miss Fox, don't –” 

I wrenched free from his grip, throwing myself off the horse in the process, and halfway landed on my feet before stumbling to the ground. My numerous injures protested as I hit the dirt road again, and with one last tug I freed my hands, spitting out dirt as I sat up. Before I could get all the grit out of my mouth, I was abruptly back-handed, the attack so sudden I couldn't brace for it and I fell backwards. I felt a little dazed from the blow, and only registered that someone had flipped me over and was on top of me when their hands curled around my throat and _squeezed._

The man who had me by the neck was unfamiliar, with bright red hair and pale blue eyes that looked at me with anger and triumph. “Thought you could run again little _bitch?_ ” the man hissed in a familiar voice, his grip tightening. _Piers_ I thought as I glared up at him, before swiftly thrusting my hands in between his and pushing them out, causing him to lose his grip on my throat. I quickly grabbed him by his coat once his hands weren't around my neck, and head-butted him in the face.

He reeled back with a shout, clutching at his nose, and I briefly shook off the daze I was in. I haphazardly tried to rise to my feet, taking a few gulps of air before turning to Piers, knocking the man on to his stomach and twisting an arm behind his back, pinning him there with my knees. I quickly began searching him for any sort of weapon I could use, and immediately taking a dagger strapped to his waist. 

Drawing it, I looked back up to what had originally made me try and free myself, Lawrence's fight with Stonewall – just in time to see Lawrence fall for a feint, giving Stonewall a chance to slice Lawrence across his abdomen. I gave a strangled grunt as I threw my newly acquired dagger at Stonewall, who had wound up his final blow only to freeze with his sword raised above his head, the dagger hilt-deep in his chest.

Everyone seemed to pause and watch Stonewall sink to the ground, surprised at his sudden fall, and none more so then Lawrence, who stumbled away from the Captain’s body, clutching at his wound as he looked around, his eyes landing on me with my still outstretched arm. He frowned as he limped carefully over to me, watching as I stumbled off of Piers and staggered over to him. 

“Lieutenant! Lieutenant, are you all right?” James said as he came up to Lawrence and I, glancing between the two of us as if not sure who to help first.

“It is not deep,” Lawrence said as he took his hand away from his wound, revealing a long tare in his clothes, most of which was covered in his blood. “But I will need a bandage.” He looked to me then, confusion evident on his face as he glanced to Stonewall's body and back again. “Why did you do that? _How_ did you do that?”

I frowned at him quizzically. “I'm really good with knives... and I didn't want to see a good man slaughtered. Even if we're technically enemies,” I ended with a shrug and a hint of a smile.

Lawrence shook his head. “Where did you even get the knife?”

“Piers, sir,” James said, pointing behind me, and I turned to see the man standing a few paces off, clutching at his bleeding nose and throwing a hateful glare my way. “Miss Fox fell off your horse when she was trying to free herself, and before I could do much of anything, Piers attacked her.”

“The harlot was trying to get away while everyone was distracted! I couldn't –”

“If I was trying to get away, I would have taken a horse, dipshit. I can't run.”

“You filth –”

“Enough!” Lawrence said, glaring at the two of us before turning his gaze to James, “Will you go and find some bandages?And you Piers, get back to your horse.” 

James nodded and Piers grumbled but did as he was told, leaving Lawrence and I somewhat alone, the two of us wilting from fatigue and injuries. In the odd calm that had fallen I could hear the Lexington bells again, their sharp ringing breaking the otherwise quiet dawn.

“Tell me Miss Fox, do you know what the bells mean?”

“I don't know about the bells,” I said with a shrug. “ But I do know there's a fully armed militia in Lexington. The boy might've been a little dramatic about it, but I don't think he was entirely wrong when he said you'd get slaughtered if you walk in there.”

Lawrence looked contemplative, turning towards the sound of the bells before staring at his men for a moment. “I'm inclined to believe you Miss Fox,” he finally said as he turned back to me. “If you are not lying, and there truly is a militia in Lexington, then I need to return to Castle William and inform my superiors. Booth!” he called to one of the men still seated on a horse. “ Release the prisoners. Croxford, Halsey, see about tying the Captain to his horse. We should bring him back with us to be buried properly.” 

“You're letting us go?” I frowned in disbelief at the man in front of me.

“Aye. We must move swiftly back to Boston, and prisoners would slow us down. Although,” he said' raising a brow at me, “I am tempted to take you with me, if only to see to your well-being.”

I scoffed lightly, “I'd fight you on that.”

Lawrence cocked a small smile. “Of that I have no doubt. You are a most spirited and intriguing woman Miss Fox. If circumstances were different, I'd ask you to tea.” I frowned slightly at the man, but he hurriedly continued on, “You should go; I fear there is little time to waste, and you should see to your injuries.” I nodded, the mention of my wounds making me aware of them afresh, the adrenalin from the brief fight ebbing away and letting the pain take over once more. “Oh, and Miss Fox,” Lawrence said with his hand outstretched towards me slightly, “for what it's worth: I am sorry for all the pain you and yours have suffered at the hands of the King's Men, and especially for what has befallen you tonight. I hope in time you will see us in a different light.”

I shrugged, slowly beginning to limp over to where Revere was currently standing with the other newly freed prisoners. “Well see...” I said, throwing the man a small, tired smile. Revere hurriedly offered me his shoulder to lean on as I hobbled up to him, assisting me to Lexington as the other two helped carry the body of the boy. We all limped and shuffled our way into the town, and only once did I look back to watch Lawrence's patrol ride away, their brilliant red coats standing out in the dusty light of dawn.


End file.
